


Intricate Connections

by Written_Whit



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant - ish, Explicit sex will be in later chapters, Getting Back together but differently, Getting Together, I'll be taking some liberties eventually, M/M, Other, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, Unrequited Hinata x Kageyama, Will probably only get kinkier, breaking up, but only a little angst, haikyuu manga spoilers, lord help me, will add more tags as they come up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Written_Whit/pseuds/Written_Whit
Summary: Sometimes love doesn't conquer all. Sometimes it cuts and bruises.And sometimes it brings together something entirely unexpected.~or~I want to read more IwaOiHina....so I made some.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Iwaizumi Hajime, Hinata Shouyou/Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 82
Kudos: 188





	1. A Beautiful Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Please be gentle with me. This is my first work of fiction in this fandom. I promise this will have a happy ending! Just bear with me! Thanks for the read! 
> 
> Un-Betad, but I did try real hard to proof it myself.

If books and television are to be believed, the only thing required for a happily ever after is love. Love can overcome all. Love can bridge all gaps. _Love._ If you get it, if you find it, you’re all set.

_What a bunch of bullshit._

There is nothing quite like the sting of a heart breaking when you are forced to realize that Love wasn’t enough. That while Love brought you together, connected your souls and warmed your heart; it isn’t _always_ enough. 

What they don’t tell you in those stupid romance stories is that _Love_ cannot overcome basic human differences. It cannot make incompatible partners suddenly fit like the pieces of a puzzle. It cannot alter conflicting personalities or change a stubborn mind. Each person, as an individual, has likes and dislikes, opinions and character traits that are the foundation of who they are. Love cannot change any of those things. 

Sure, for a little while, when everyone is on their best behavior it all seems rosy hued and fresh. But eventually, the glasses come off and the snarled uncomfortable bits come out to play. Some people’s demons play well together; some don’t. 

If asked, Oikawa would be first in line to describe how love fails in scathing detail. He has felt the sting of wanting, yearning, and _loving_ so much and yet still failing to connect. He has pushed and pleaded and endured until all he was left with was exhaustion and an overwhelming sense of failure. 

It wasn’t either of their faults. 

Oikawa had loved Iwaizumi with every piece of himself he had to give. But in the end, staring at each other across a room littered with jagged edges and untethered strings, it wasn’t enough. 

Oh there was love, plenty of it. But what they failed to obtain was connection, satisfaction, and compatibility. 

Compatibility is a bitch.

~*~

_~ 1 Year Earlier ~_

“I think I like you as more than just a friend.” Iwaizumi’s hands were shaking so hard he hid them in the pockets of his club jacket. His heart was pounding, bracing for rejection and yet holding on to hope that this could really happen.

“Huh?” Oikawa’s hands paused, stilling the volleyball that he had been fiddling with for hours between his long fingers. His head tilted to the side, eyes the color of warmed chocolate zeroing in on his friend. 

“I mean, I like-” 

Oikawa cut off Iwaizumi’s words with a careless wave, “No, no. I heard that. What do you mean _you think?”_ His lips curved into a mischievous grin, “I’ve known for awhile now. Just wondering when you’re going to catch up, is all.” 

“Why you little-” Iwaizumi was off, chasing a laughing Oikawa around the sidewalk. “What do you mean ‘ _you know’?!_ ” Oikawa evaded his grasping hands, dodging tackles and his giggles splitting the air, light and joyful. 

Oikawa’s luck finally ran out, Iwaizumi’s arms banding around him tightly, pulling their bodies together in an intimate embrace. Oikawa’s cheeks flushed as he raised his chin, looking into Iwaizumi’s eyes, the color ever shifting. “Can you finally be my boyfriend now? I was getting tired of waiting.” 

“Why didn’t… How come….” Iwaizumi gave up and let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes.”

The silence stretched, slightly awkward yet happy. 

“Now buy me some food! I’m so hungry!” Oikawa whined, breaking the tension. He stepped out of Iwaizumi’s embrace, deftly linking his fingers with the darker haired boy’s. “Worst boyfriend ever!” 

The smile that cut across Iwaizumi’s face took Oikawa’s breath away. Tugging gently, he led his newly made boyfriend into the slowly drooping sunset. 

~*~

The first sign of trouble came when they tried to negotiate sex for the first time. 

Among panted breaths, heated kisses and wandering hands; Oikawa was positive he would enjoy whatever Iwaizumi had to give him. Gentle pets and caresses felt wonderful. Probing fingers slicked with lube had felt foreign but enjoyable. 

It was as Iwaizumi was pressing himself forward, parting flesh and trembling with nerves, that Oikawa’s stomach dropped. He _hated_ this. There was no pleasure to be had for him in the invasion, although brief flickers of sensation tried to valiantly save the situation when Iwaizumi’s cock skipped over the bundle of nerves deep inside him. 

He tried to hold out. He tried to wait for the explosion of pleasure to overtake him as he had read in all of the research. It never came. He lasted a matter of minutes until it became clear to him, and his now limp dick, that those sensations weren’t going to show themselves. Iwaizumi noticed as Oikawa hid his face in embarrassment. 

They parted, both unsatisfied and overwhelmed with awkward uncertainty. 

“Maybe we needed to prep more?” Iwaizumi offered to the dimly lit room. 

“Yeah…..maybe.” Oikawa responded. The concern bubbling deep in his gut lingered. “Next time.”

“Yeah. Next time.” It wasn’t comforting that Iwaizumi sounded just as skeptical.

~*~

The second sign of trouble had nothing to do with sex, or lack of.

It had everything to do with just how difficult it was to negotiate anything between them. Simple interactions felt like a battlefield. Maybe it was immaturity. Maybe it was stubbornness. Maybe it was just two hearts with an overwhelming desire to take care of one another but unable to find a way to bridge the gap. 

Iwaizumi never meant to be cold and abrasive. Oikawa never meant to be cruel and sarcastic. 

Iwaizumi’s gut churned with aggravation. How was it that they connected so well on the volleyball court and yet couldn’t navigate the basics of communication off of it? How could they go from two minds completely in sync to wayward ships lost at sea? 

Most of the time they were on the same page, moving together in a common direction. But when they lost their way, the fights were explosive, painful, and never quite fully resolved. They would go days without speaking until mutual yearning brought them together and they limped forward as best as they could. 

Iwaizumi carried the shards of festered feelings just as he was sure Oikawa did the same. One day, those raw wounds would deplete and drain what was once joyful and vibrant. But determination is a funny thing when you’re in love.

~*~

The last, and final, straw came seemingly out of nowhere. Jumping from the shadows into broad daylight with little to no regard for anyone who may fall victim to the wreckage. 

“I love you, Tooru-chan.” 

The words that would fill any other person with joy slithered through Oikawa with a slimy trail of dread. He had been dreading this moment, picturing in his mind for far too long what he would say or do. When this all started, he would have been ecstatic. He would have been thrilled and consumed with bubbly feelings of happiness. 

But now….there was just so _much_ between them. 

Did he love Iwaizumi? Of course. A thousand times yes.

Was there a future together? He wasn’t sure. And that _hurt._ The uncertainty that Oikawa carried with him cut deeper than any fight filled with harsh words ever could. 

Oikawa would be the first to claim what a physically needy brat he could be. And with that came...needs. Needs that, while not so important now, he could already see growing in urgency down the road. 

Sure, they had explored each other’s bodies. They had caressed and petted and coaxed pleasurable moans from one another. But there was a barrier there that neither persistence nor stubbornness could overcome. Between Iwaizumi’s complete lack of desire to let Oikawa take him and Oikawa’s absolute physical repulsion for the reverse, they always seemed to lack that level deeper connection that the both of them craved.

Oh they had tried. So many ways, so many conversations, so many awkward failed moments of intimacy. Oikawa could see it in Iwaizumi’s eyes, yearning for something that he couldn’t give. He knew this because he knew his own eyes reflected the same want and desire. 

And then there was the _fighting._ He could never catch himself, snarking at Iwaizumi for some perceived slight or shortcoming. Iwaizumi would come back with a savagery that mimicked his cold demeanor on the court. They never could figure out how to stop the escalation, to take a breath and just fucking _pause._

In the end they were both left exposed, raw, and aching. One of them would always beg mercy and slink away, praying for momentary respite from the emotional and verbal battling. They never could figure out what to say to each other afterwards. Either too proud or stupid to just _fucking_ apologize. 

How was that sustainable long term? How did they have any hope of staying together and being even _remotely_ happy? How could they -

“Tooru-chan?” Iwaizumi’s soft hand on his shoulder startled him out of his own thoughts. _Kami-sama, how long has he been standing there waiting for me to respond?_ “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it back.” Iwaizumi’s soft smile penetrated the shell of uncertainty and worry, cutting to his quick and fostering the warm bloom in his chest.

“I love you too, Hajime-kun.” And he did, with everything. This was worth fighting for, he wouldn’t give up. Not yet.

~*~ 

~ _Two months later ~_

“I can’t do this anymore.” 

Iwaizumi blinked at the words. His heart skipped and he was brave enough to say there was relief mixed in with the fear pounding through him. He gently set his water aside, still sweating and panting from the run they had just finished. He swallowed and braced, waiting for the axe to fall.

Oikawa, beautiful even while panting for air, leaned back against the gate in front of his home with an air of dejection about him. He was all lean muscle in his tight white shirt, short teal shorts and black leggings. _So beautiful._ His head tilted back as if reaching out for guidance or courage. He sighed and drooped forward as if the weight of the world was finally too much for him.

“I love you. So fucking much, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa paused, searching. “But we aren’t working. I can’t figure it out. We try. We try so hard. But it always feels….”

“Forced? A little bit broken? Like something is missing?” Iwaizumi filled in when Oikawa trailed off. He gave a small smile. “I want to say you're wrong. I want to say we can do this.”

“But we can’t.” Oikawa huffed a laugh. “You are my best friend. My everything. It feels like the tighter I hold on to you, the faster you slip away.” He leaned forward, fingers catching in the stretchy mesh material of Iwaizumi’s black running shirt. _Would this be the last time I ever get to touch you?_ Iwaizumi stepped further into Oikawa’s space, the quiet noise of his black joggers moving the only sound in the air.

They sat in silence, processing and aching. 

Iwaizumi cleared his throat, pushing back emotion. “What now?”

“We’re getting ready to start the last stretch of games in our high school careers.” Oikawa’s normally beautiful voice creaked as if choking out works he didn’t want to say. “I think maybe we should step back and focus on that. I still love you, I still need you. But we don’t work…”

“Like that.” Iwaizumi nodded in understanding. “Okay….Okay.”

They fell back into silence. The air between them was full of sadness but surprisingly lacking tension or anger. 

“Give me a few days.” Iwaizumi stepped back lifting his face skyward, letting the ache and emotion wash through him. “Give me a few days to just….process. And then we can go back to how we were.” 

“Of course.” Oikawa gave a watery smile. “Of course. As much as you need.” 

Iwaizumi nodded, bending over to grab the bag he had carelessly dropped before their run. On reflex, he turned to give Oikawa a kiss and froze. Shaking his head briefly he turned and started towards home. He refused to acknowledge that the cold brush of wetness on his cheeks was anything more than sweat.

And there, in the mid-morning sun on a normal Saturday, they let go. Two souls simultaneously falling together and falling apart.

As promised, several days later, they resumed their friendship. Oikawa continued to be flighty, flirty, and the occasional snob. Iwaizumi continued to keep him in line and simultaneously bolster everyone around him. 

Neither acknowledged the lingering ache. Neither spoke of the sleepless nights and unspoken yearning. 

Time, the bitch that she is, marched forward and they settled into a new normal. A slightly off kilter and less shiny normal, but normal just the same. 

Compatibility is a bitch.


	2. Fizzles and Pops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going back to how things were before isn't as easy as they hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said a week for the next chapter, but I'm on a roll and here it is. This break felt right overall so....enjoy! 
> 
> Once again, No Beta reader. I tried my very best to proof it myself, but... shit happens. :)

_ I still hate that little prick.  _ Oikawa stared across the court at one Kageyama Tobio.  _ So proud. So annoying. _

It was only a practice match. A practice match that he had missed the majority of. Begging off with a bum ankle for the first few sets wasn’t supposed to result in his team  _ losing  _ to Karasuno. They were nothing. Nobody.

_ Except... _ The streak of fiery hair caught his eye. Hinata Shouyou was a whirlwind of energy and passion. Something that Oikawa hadn’t experienced in ages, if ever at all. He was boisterous, aggressive and overwhelming.  _ Great, another annoying bug to endure. _

_ But he’s an annoying bug that distracts me from Iwaizumi, at least. _ His eyes flicked over to his teammates, gathered loosely together on the side of the court. Iwaizumi was discussing the game with them, talking through mistakes and improvements they could make before the Interhigh competition started. Exuberant motion drew his gaze back to the slightly disorganized team across the court.

He lingered, watching the bundle of energy bounce among his teammates. Hinata alternated arguing with Kageyama and fangirling over something one of his teammates had done. How someone so small could carry so much chaotic zeal, Oikawa would never know. But he was sure he was going to get a headache from watching alone.

_ The next few weeks will definitely be interesting.  _ For the first time in what seemed like ages, he felt a little lighter. Something giving his mind focus outside of his continual review of how he and Iwaizumi couldn’t be together. Normally, playing volleyball was enough to pull his attention for at least a little while. But when they wrapped up and parted ways for the night, it came rushing back. 

This was the first time he wasn’t immediately bombarded with his own emotions and it had everything to do with his newfound curiosity about the new little baby crow.  _ I wonder where he came from... _

Quickly grabbing his things, refusing to admit to his quick avoidance of Iwaizumi, he slipped out of the gym and pondered his next move. Antagonizing his former kouhai seemed like a solid end to this mess of a day. He smirked to himself.  _ This should be fun. _

~*~

~Two Months Later~

Oikawa was stalling. He knew he was, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. His team had already shuffled inside in order to prepare for the Interhigh tournament. Today, of all of the days, he just needed a minute before adorning his mask and shouldering the hopes and dreams of his team.

So he lingered behind outside to grasp the last few lungfuls of fresh air that he could before the pressure and responsibility settled back on to him. So what if one of his fangirls talked his ear off? She was cute and for awhile his vision wasn’t entirely obscured by the magnetism that constantly drew him to Iwaizumi. Granted, that was only because his ex wasn’t currently in the vicinity. 

*WHAM* 

The impact to the back of his head took him entirely by surprise as the volleyball  _ that was just thrown at his head _ bounced innocently away. He turned to identify the culprit and shrunk a little on himself. Iwaizumi stood on the steps just ahead, expression tense and unyielding. Oikawa wondered what this looked like to his best friend turned boyfriend and back again. 

Then he wondered how he would feel if he had stumbled upon Iwaizumi talking to someone else,  _ flirting _ with someone else. The nausea that rolled through him was entirely unwelcome.

“Come inside.” Iwaizumi’s gruff voice cleared the distance between them easily. Oikawa could see his body vibrating with tension. 

“Aw, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa’s sing song voice filled the air. “You didn’t have to hit me.” He turned to the girl in front of him. “Sorry! Gotta go!”

He loped up the steps, watching as Iwaizumi sharply turned and moved back into the building when he was sure Oikawa had followed. Oikawa watched as his ex-lover’s hands flexed and released rapidly. He swallowed, hating himself for hurting someone so dear to him. He had to physically restrain himself from reaching out to the love of his life, tangling their fingers together and begging for another chance.

Sometimes he tried to convince himself that he could be whatever Iwaizumi needed if it meant they were together. And then the harsh reality came rushing back in at the fact that he couldn’t, just as Iwaizumi couldn’t offer the same in return.

“That wasn’t very nice, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa rubbed the back of his head, forced cheer lingering in his voice. 

“Just get inside, Crappykawa. Warmups are about to start.” Iwaizumi’s voice was cutting and harsh.

Oikawa huffed to himself.  _ Guess we aren’t as over it as we pretend to be.  _

~*~

_ It dropped.  _ Oikawa stared, torn between disbelief and exhilaration.  _ It fucking dropped.  _ The repeated soft bounces of the ball were almost deafening in the stunned silence of the gymnasium. 

_ We won.  _ It had seemed that this match, arguably one of the more challenging matches of his entire volleyball career, would go forever. Each team rallying and pushing, climbing back to the top just to fall again. Then it had happened. The final sharp ring of the ball on the court, declaring Aoba Johsai victorious in the third round of the Interhigh over Karasuno. 

Cheers rang out amongst their fans and their team. Pride surged through him, overwhelming and consuming. He found Iwaizumi in the jostle of his teammates and jumped into the pile, arms wrapping tightly around his best friend. Joy and laughter echoed through the air at their win. 

_ This. I missed this. _ Unrestrained, uninhibited happiness. It felt like after they parted ways romantically every interaction was over thought, timid, and unsure. But here, now, it felt like it used to. The connection of their mutual achievement coursing through them, untainted by whatever history or heartache they may carry. 

Iwaizumi’s arms found their way around him and squeezed tightly. “I’m proud of you, Tooru-chan. Good game.” Oikawa’s face flushed at the praise, warmth and longing shooting through him quickly. He laughed and stepped back, breaking the moment.

“You too, Iwa-chan! Good game!” He smiled as big and bright as he could manage, his hand clutching the back of his head in embarrassment. “It’s time to lineup, I think.” 

Iwaizumi reached out and ruffled Oikawa’s normally perfectly styled hair, tousling the strands more and feeling the dampness of sweat. “Yeah, yeah it is.” 

Aoba Johsai took the line, standing across from their opponents. They bowed with a quick shouted ‘ _ Thank you very much!’  _ before approaching the net to shake hands. 

Oikawa took this prime opportunity to level a glare at his previous teammate,  _ Kageyama _ . “I told you. You couldn’t beat me.” Iwaizumi swatted the back of his head with a quiet ‘ _ Don’t be an ass.’  _

Even so, Oikawa intended to glorify in this moment as much as possible. Next time, he wasn’t so sure he would be afforded the same opportunity. They had both seen it, hell, the entire Aoba Johsai team had seen it. Kageyama was terrifyingly good and he was just getting started. Not to mention….

Oikawa’s gaze flicked over to Karasuno’s red headed #10. The notable improvement since the practice match a mere two months ago was startling. The younger boy had learned how to fly. Oikawa was almost giddy, though he would vehemently deny if asked, to see what other neat tricks the first year duo would come up with. 

Right now though, as Oikawa stared at him, Hinata’s eyes were wild and unfocused. His gaze shifting from an unknown spot in the distance to his right hand still stained red by his spikes. His small body was tense with the bitter tang of defeat. Oikawa’s chest panged with unexpected emotion, his chocolate eyes widening in surprise.  _ Sadness? Sympathy?....Guilt?  _ Whatever it was, Oikaway did not appreciate it in the slightest. 

Returning his glare to Kageyama, Oikawa gave a terse nod. He clutched the knitted jersey sleeve of Iwaizumi’s uniform and tugged. The two 3rd years stepped away, turning back to their own teammates.

“On to the next?” Iwaizumi’s voice was laced with a grin, smug and proud.

Oikawa nodded, “On to Shiratorizawa and Ushiwaka.” He slanted his eyes towards his best friend, a vicious grin cutting his face. He lifted his arm and clenched his fist, “Let’s go, Iwa-chan!”

~*~

~1 Week Later~

Iwaizumi leaned back in his desk chair, both arms tucked up with hands cradling the back of his head. He let out a sigh, staring at the ceiling searching for answers that wouldn’t easily come. Most of his teammates and even his family would look at him secluded in his room for hours and exclaim how studious he was being. There was only one person, other than himself, who knew what he was really doing.  _ Stalling. Avoid. Avoid. Avoid. _

In the end, they had lost to Shiratorizawa and Ushijima Wakatoshi. The pill was no less bitter to swallow now than it was when the loss was fresh. Now...Now Iwaizumi was left with difficult decisions to make. 

Normally, 3rd years departed their volleyball club after the Interhigh. Studies and preparing for entrance exams  _ should _ be of utmost importance. But the reality was that he loved volleyball, and while he still didn’t know if he could make a career out of it, he wasn’t quite ready to abandon the dream just yet. 

They  _ could  _ stick around for the Spring Tournament qualifier, a mere two months away. But Iwaizumi alone wouldn’t give them much of a chance. They needed Oikawa.

And there was the genesis of the problem. To need Oikawa meant playing with Oikawa. Playing with Oikawa meant seeing his beautiful face every day. And seeing his face everyday meant….Iwaizumi huffed out another sigh.  _ And around and around it goes.  _

He groaned, shoving his fingers through his short dark locks causing the strands to stick up even more than they normally did.  _ I don’t even know if he wants to keep playing.  _

Guilt filled him as he thought of how little he had actually spoken to his ex-lover/best friend.  _ I promised we could be friends again, but I didn’t realize how fucking hard it was going to be.  _ How did a person go about seeking out someone who’s mere presence filled them with a deep ache that would never be fixed? It was like some form of self-imposed torture. 

Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to let go entirely. He had thought about trying to date, just to see if the distraction would be enough to give him the distance to actually start healing. But every time he opened his mouth to ask one of the nameless faces out to dinner or something, Oikawa’s image flashed in his head. It stopped him in his tracks and tied up his tongue every. damn. time. 

“Damn arrogant beautiful man-child.” Iwaizumi muttered to himself. He let out a frustrated huff, dragging his hands down his face before finally reaching for his cell phone. “Might as well just fucking ask.” 

**Conversation with:** Sparkling Idiot

**Iwaizumi:** _ What are your plans for the next few months?  _

**Iwaizumi:** _ With Volleyball, I mean?  _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Nothing weird _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Promise _

Well this was already going splendidly.  _ Fuck, I’m such a fumbling idiot.  _ He only had to wait moments before a string of replies came in quickly.

**Sparkling Idiot:** _ I want 2 play _

**Sparkling Idiot:** _ Not ready for it 2 be over _

**Sparkling Idiot:** _ V-ball, u know?  _

**Sparkling Idiot:** _ Are you? Going to play?  _

**Sparkling Idiot:** _ Can I? Is that okay?  _

Fury and guilt simultaneously blasted through him.  _ Are you shitting me right now, Oikawa?  _ With agitated fingers, he pulled up the contact and pressed ‘dial’. He waited for the call to connect after a couple of rings.

‘ _ Yeah?’  _ Oikawa’s voice came through the line somehow managing to sound pompous and timid at the same time.

“WHAT DO YOU  _ MEAN _ ‘IS IT OKAY’?!” Shouting was probably not the best way to approach this, but he was just so damn tired of walking on eggshells. “You want to play professionally still don’t you? Or has that changed?”

‘ _ I do. I just - ‘  _

“Then  _ of course _ you should play!” Iwaizumi held the phone to his ear with one arm while his other gestured wildly about him. Pity Oikawa couldn’t see him, it really was quite the effect. 

‘ _ Yes, but -’ _

_ “No! _ I don’t want to hear it. Stupid idiot.” Iwaizumi paused, breathing deeply to calm himself. “You have wanted to play volleyball your whole life. Since we were kids. Don’t let me, or anyone, stand in the way. I’m your best friend, you fucking moron.”

Iwaizumi listened as a relieved breath came through the line. ‘ _ I love you, Iwa-chan.’ _

His throat clogged with emotion, “I love you too, Crappykawa.” He ignored Oikawa’s whine of protest at the nickname before adding, “ ‘Sides, we need a rematch.”

Oikawa’s soft chuckle filtered through the air, slightly distorted, “We do. But who will make the better rematch? Shiratorizawa…or Karasuno?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting in their heads is hard...mostly because when I picture myself in a similar situation I would just be a freaking WRECK. Anyways, I would love to hear from you and what you think! Thanks for the read!


	3. Fresh Faces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Growth is hard
> 
> Being put into boxes for the convenience of others is stifling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! We're keeping it moving! A little bit of a short chapter but it felt right to cut it here
> 
> As always, no Beta. Mistakes are my own but I did the best I could! 
> 
> Thanks for the read!

Over time, Hinata’s view of what could be considered as ‘the worst possible thing ever’, changed. At first, it was not being able to play volleyball at all as he desperately begged his friends to practice with him. And then to help him field a team so he could play in just _one_ real game. Then it was failing to be a useful member of a team, his lack of experience an obvious shortfall he carried with him. 

Eventually it evolved to be the agony of defeat in the face of giving everything you had and it still not being quite enough. He had Aoba Johsai to thank for that last revelation, the sting of losing still fresh in his mind and not likely to go anywhere soon. 

But lately, he was starting to think that the real ‘worst thing possible ever’ was failing to be recognized by someone as a friend, or rival, or possibly something more when he wanted it so desperately. Hinata was never one to truly accept the bounds of the boxes that people liked to put him in, but the one that Kageyama has stuffed him into was stifling. His urge to break free and grow into something bigger was almost an obsession at this point. The fact that Kageyama didn’t see his capability for growth stung more than he ever thought it could. 

Losing to Aoba Johsai and then scrambling to get to play in a practice match just to have his quicks guarded and blocked set his teeth on edge. The surprise of his jump and the shock of their quick would only get them so far before other teams figured it out and Hinata would once again be seen as background to the bigger picture. 

He will admit that picking a fight with Kageyama wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but he had no other way to communicate how much he _hated_ the pre-labeled limits that Kageyama set for him without even _trying_ anything different _._ And now they weren’t talking at all, barely acknowledging one another in or outside of practice. The one person he had hoped would finally recognize the fire within him had turned a blind eye. 

So, in usual fashion, he had sought growth elsewhere. The small volleyball practice facility run by his coach's grandfather afforded him the opportunity to try something new. It was awkward and strange, so very different than practices with his team. But he could admit that he needed to improve on the basics, learn the different strategies, and absorb as much as he possibly could from the elder Ukai-Sensei. One day, Kageyama would see him for the force that he was, whether he admitted it or not.

Until then, Hinata would work on actually hitting the balls that every 10 year old kid could. And maybe stop receiving serves and spikes with his face. He was sure his nose would appreciate it. 

~*~

This training camp was _painful_ and absolutely nothing like what he had imagined when they first heard this was actually happening. 

Constant losses, missed connections, never ending penalties for each game were frustrating and disheartening. At least outside of the day he had finally found other players, besides Kageyama, that were determined to practice and improve the way he was. He did feel slightly guilty for intruding and inviting himself, but a lifetime of being overlooked and counted out taught him that good things come to those that take them. So… he found opportunities and grabbed them as quickly and viciously as he could. 

So when Bokuto took him aside and said he would teach him how to be an Ace, he had almost thought his heart would explode. When Kuroo continually threw tips his way about how to be a better blocker, he absorbed that information like a sponge. And when Lev was, well, Lev, he took the opportunity to grow from watching another player’s mistakes. 

And when he wasn’t doing his losing penalties or embedding himself in pickup games outside of practice, there was Kenma.

To some, their friendship made absolutely no sense. But if one looked closely, they could see the various connections and tethers that pulled them together. Kenma cared about volleyball when he deemed it necessary. All other times his passion was video games, a level of passion that Hinata could relate to. Kenma never judged or made Hinata feel less than just for dreaming of being an exceptional volleyball player. The same way that Hinata didn’t care that volleyball wasn’t Kenma’s favorite thing in the whole world. 

Where Hinata was boisterous and excitable, Kenma was reserved and observant. And unlike most assumptions that the two very different personalities would clash, they complemented and balanced. Kenma’s quiet nature afforded Hinata the opportunity to stop and think for a second while Hinata’s infectious energy drove Kenma to emerge from his shell from time to time. 

That was how, in the middle of training camp, Hinata and Kenma were sequestered by themselves in the Nekoma sleeping quarters. Kenma, as usual, glued to his games and Hinata fidgeting with a ball and firing question after question about Kenma’s game, his childhood, his life now, and so on. Eventually, Hinata tapered off, laying on his back across the bottom of Kenma’s sleeping roll while the latter sat cross-legged atop his own pillow. He was gently tossing the ball and catching it, over and over, brows furrowed as he stared at the ceiling.

Kenma briefly glanced up from his handheld console before asking, “What is it?” 

Hinata paused, ball resting on the tips of his fingers as he thought through the whirlwind in his mind. All he wanted was for someone to _see_ him. Not just for his shocking jumps and powerful spikes, but for the potential inside him and the asset that he could become. And...other things that weren’t quite yet taking shape in his head.

Finally deciding how to ask what had been occupying his mind, he resumed tossing the ball. “Do you ever wish someone could look past the surface and see you for what you’re capable of?” 

Without pause, Kenma retorted, “I wish Kuroo would do that and then lower his expectations.” 

“Kenma! I’m being serious!” 

“So am I!” Glancing up from his game he noticed the look on Hinata’s face and paused with a sigh. “How is it that you want Kageyama to look at you?” 

“W-What?! I never said-”

“To anyone with two eyes and any level of common sense, it’s obvious. So this thing that you’re looking for, what does it look like? How do you want Kageyama to look at you?” 

Hinata closed his eyes, trying to visualize what Kenma was asking of him. Instead of raven hair and sapphire eyes as he’d expected, a very familiar head of perfectly styled brunette hair and chocolate eyes flashed in his mind’s eye before a second image of slightly darker spiked hair above eyes that shifted from deep brown to silver. 

The image he was seeing was one he had witnessed when they were playing Aoba Johsai in the Interhigh. Oikawa had just badly messed up a serve and his teammate, _Iwaisushi? Iwai….zumi! That’s it, Iwaizumi_ , had looked over at the frustrated setter with something soft and determined in his eyes and calmly said ‘ _I know what you’re capable of.’_ Oikawa’s shoulders had immediately relaxed, responding to the other boy’s words and belief in him. 

Quickly following that moment in time, another image popped into his head. After the game, when the loss was fresh and sharp, Oikawa had looked at _him_ like he was something to be watched and studied. At the time, his mind was still dazed with the surprise of losing and frustrated at his failure to make the last spike. It had taken him until his bike ride, the last stretch of distance to home, to recognize it. And then to realize that no one had ever looked at him like that before, like they were waiting for him to grow and evolve into something _more._

The images were followed by simultaneous pangs of...envy? And something else he couldn’t name. Excitement maybe. 

Seeing the expression on Hinata’s face, Kenma nodded and went back to his game, satisfied that he had gotten what he needed.

After a lingering stretch of silence, Kenma lost in his digital world and Hinata reconciling what he wanted out of Kageyama, he quietly murmured, “Do you think he ever will?” 

Kenma snorted, “I think there is a better chance of Kuroo not making me run at practice for the rest of the season.” 

“Ouch.” Even though the word was said with a bright smile and followed with a sharp laugh, the hurt still came through, quiet and soft.

Kenma sighed, tilting his head back and seeking patience. “Kageyama is an idiot. You never fail to be the brightest thing in the room and it’s not because of the wild tangerine on your head.” Ignoring Hinata’s indignant _‘Hey_!’, he pushed on, “You are easy to see, Shouyou. His failure to recognize it is his shortcoming, not yours. Don’t understate your value just because one person counts in dollars instead of yen.”

“When did you get so smart about this?”

“I played a dating sim game just to see if I could beat it without buying anything. There was a bunch of that weird love stuff in it.” Kenma paused for a moment, “I also ended up spending my allowance for 4 months to finish the game, so I figured I should get the most out of it.” 

The image of Kenma focused and cursing a love simulation game around his time spent on Volleyball and school was enough to send Hinata into a fit of laughter loud enough to draw Bokuto’s attention from way down the hall. 

“Hey! Hey! Hey! Where’s the party?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I'd love to hear from you, so feel free to leave a comment!


	4. Fallen Dynasties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doors open, Chapters Close
> 
> Toppling giants is Hinata's favorite hobby. 
> 
> Two 3rd years get brave and make a move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note: I'm starting to take some liberties with the dialogue and what actually happened in the manga/anime
> 
> But we rolling now, guys.
> 
> Per usual, no beta. All mistakes are my own, but I did the best I could to proof it. If something glaring is in here, please let me know.

Life seemed to return mostly to normal following the camp in Tokyo. The struggle of playing against strong teams like Nekoma and Fukorodani finally paying out a connection within the team that they hadn’t experienced before. Kageyama had ultimately conquered whatever demon he had been battling and was finally tossing to Hinata again, the new quick even more exciting than what they had done before.

It was a powerful feeling, knowing that there was a moment in time designed specifically so that Hinata could rain as much havoc as possible on his opponents. He had forgiven Kageyama and apologized for his part in their fight in the hopes that they could move forward and continue to grow. To a point, that is.

Maybe it was when Hinata realized that Kageyama didn’t actually ignore his plea to evolve. It might have been at the end of camp as they were packing up their things to depart when Kageyama had quietly murmured ‘ _You worked hard this week, good job.’_ But somewhere, in between the noise of life and practice, he had figured out what his ‘something more’ was relative to the raven haired setter. And ‘something more’ turned out to be a full on crush. A crush that Hinata was relieved to have put a name to while achingly embarrassed at it’s realization.

For now, Hinata pushed aside any feelings he may have had. They were working their way through the Spring Tournament qualifying rounds and there was no time to be distracted by silly little things like a crush. 

Their first games against Ohgiminami High and Kakugawa High had gone as expected, with only minor hiccups here and there. Then, two months later, they worked their way to victory over Johzenji High and Wakutani Minami High. The latter game had resulted in a heart stopping collision between Daichi-san and Tanaka-senpai that had ultimately re-invigorated the team and their dedication to victory. And thank Kami-Sama Daichi-san was alright. 

Now, they were set to rematch the team that had eliminated them from the Interhigh Tournament earlier in the year: Aoba Johsai. The deal made even sweeter with the knowledge that their 3rd years had stuck around, the same as Karasuno’s. Revenge would be a sweet syrup that Hinata’s entire team was ready to consume. 

Hinata was bubbling with nerves and the thirst for payback that only this game could provide him. So much had changed since the last time they had faced off with Seijoh. The chance to see how they fared against their rivals, well at least rivals in _his_ mind, filled him to bursting with excitement. At least when he wasn’t bursting in other ways as he avoided all of the scary intense volleyball players in his quest for a bathroom. 

_Let’s go._

_~*~_

_~_ Karasuno vs. Aoba Johsai - Spring Tournament Qualifiers, 3rd Set~

This game felt so familiar and yet so very different than a mere four months ago. Iwaizumi wiped the sweat from his brow with the collar of his jersey, looking across his teammates and cataloguing any new concerns or issues that could impact how they were playing. 

Karasuno had grown sometime in the months between the Interhigh and now. Almost as if on repeat, they were once again in the third set, both teams seemingly even in talent and perseverance. As with the last game in June, the winner of this set would take the match, and even though they were creeping up on match point it still wasn’t entirely clear who would come out on top. 

Most importantly though, Iwaizumi’s eye kept catching on a familiar tumble of orange hair. It was hard to place what exactly had happened to the small crow, but something new and foreign permeated his motions. The once unknown surprise had become an unpredictable creature, a bringer of havoc that had a coiling bubble of nerves taking root in his gut. His confidence in their ability to win this game teetered on a knife’s edge, each play tilting the outcome precariously the longer the match went on. 

Even still, with every play, every toss, every spike, Iwaizumi watched and observed. His eyes drinking in the subtle yet powerful changes in Karasuno’s #10. Even more worrisome was the idea that there was still so much that Hinata could achieve, the swell of potential an obvious thing. At least to Iwaizumi. 

And also to Oikawa. 

Several times during the match he had caught the gaze of the Seijoh Setter settled intently on Hinata. Oikawa’s expression ranged from smug to studious to something else Iwaizumi couldn’t put a name to. If he had to guess it was a middle ground between pride and interest. Feelings that Iwaizumi was starting to relate to all too well as he also trained his view upon the small middle blocker.

Another serve, another receive, another point. They were at deuces. First to two-point advantage won the game. _Fuck, we’re going to lose._

The thought filtered through Iwaizumi’s brain so quickly and innocently it took a few seconds for the nausea and nerves to fully hit him. Somehow he knew, _he just knew_ , that they weren’t going to win this.

Following the realization an equally unpleasant reality made itself known. This was his last game with Oikawa. The pit of unease and discomfort was growing in his stomach. Would they ever play volleyball together again? Would they even speak again? Was this the last time he would spend any amount of time with the haughty brunette? 

Iwaizumi shook his head vigorously. Later. He would worry about all of that later. Right now, no matter the feelings he carried, he had a game to play and a team to support. They would _not_ go quietly, no matter the outcome. 

~*~

_We lost._ The words echoed on repeat through Oikawa’s mind as he stood frozen on the court. The last play ricocheted over and over in flashes. The rogue receive that sent him flying across the court to set to Iwaizumi as he collided with the tables placed innocently to the side. The frantic and almost impossible receives and returns by both Karasuno and Aoba Johsai. And then the killing blow.

He thought he had it. He thought he was in position, but the spike from Hinata deflected off the block and then slammed, awkward and powerful, against his arms before dropping behind him. The bounce of the ball a dirge in his mind, a haunting loop playing over and over. 

He vaguely heard himself say something to Kageyama, an acknowledgement of their growing rivalry or something. His eyes flicked over to Hinata as the younger boy circled up with his teammates, relishing the sweet taste of victory. The victory that Aoba Johsai had glorified in last time and Karasuno had reclaimed here today, rightfully so. 

Contrary to what most thought of him, he embraced the challenge that came with rivals and talent. So even in his haze of shock and dismay, he could acknowledge that this team of crows was not the same as what he had faced prior. Not even close. 

His gaze stayed rooted on the exuberant #10, observing and cataloguing and much as he could in these moments before they departed the court. Hinata’s game play today had been frighteningly intense, powerful even. So even though he himself was feeling the agony of defeat, the underlying flutters of pride and excitement were not entirely a surprise. He smiled to himself. _So much growth already. I can’t wait to see what giants you topple next, little monster._

Satisfied that this would not be the last he would see of one Hinata Shouyou, he completed the standard post game formalities. Shaking the ref’s hands, taking time to discuss with Karasuno’s coaches before starting to make his way to his teammates. He stumbled slightly as his gaze alighted on Iwaizumi’s back, the Seijoh spiker slowly gathering his things as he encouraged the 1st and 2nd years in an effort to improve for next year. _This was it._

Oikawa stopped, tilting his head back slightly and taking a deep breath. They alway say that you should cherish every moment as it’s happening, but this is the first time he has felt the implications so keenly. Now, he wished he had taken more time during the match to appreciate playing with his team, playing with Iwaizumi. The thought that this would be the last game together never once crossed his mind, and now it was gone. Over. 

The tidal wave of uncertainty was almost a physical thing in his mind’s eye. What happened next? Where did he go from here? Would he and Iwaizumi stay friends now that volleyball wasn’t a link forcing them together? Would they even stay together through university?

Oikawa had always known with an unshakable certainty that volleyball was his path. The same could not be said for Iwaizumi, who much preferred the study of players and the limits to which a person’s body could be pushed rather than the actual sport itself. While complimentary, their future dreams and aspirations didn’t come with any guarantee of connection or friendship. The future was closing in, a fork in the road coming quickly, or a train he couldn’t seem to get off of. 

_Fuck. What are we supposed to do next?_

Shaking his mind out of his internal ramblings, he lined up with his teammates, waiting for their coach to provide his closing comments before heading over to their fans. On his way, he spotted Iwaizumi hesitating, clearly lost in his own mind. _Probably deciding that he’s the worst because he missed a spike or something, idiot._

Knowing that Iwaizumi doesn't come out of these things on his own, he wound up and smacked him on the back with as much force as he could muster. _Can’t hate yourself if you’re pissed at me, Iwa-chan._ As he finished walking by the spiker, he murmured a low, “Let it go.” A moment later, Iwaizumi took his place amongst their team, looking slightly more composed. 

Thanking their fans for their support and encouragement, they turned to leave the gymnasium, leaving behind the bitter taste of defeat amongst the squeak of their shoes and the smell of sweat. Karasuno still laughing over Hinata’s and their libero’s antics, the sound a contrast to the loop of questions still permeating his thoughts.

Iwaizumi, as usual, was at his side, a comfort in the face of the hurt and uncertainty racing through his mind. _I wonder how long Iwaizumi will stay here next to me befores he picks his own road forward._

The thought was not a comforting one.

After taking the time to cool down, splashing water on his face and preparing for the journey home, he had just set off in search of any lingering teammates when a deep voice called out to him. _Fucking Ushiwaka._

Turning, he stared down the Shiratorizawa ace as Ushijima continued with whatever bullshit he had started saying before Oikawa tuned in, “You chose the wrong path. Let this be a lesson to you to not do so again.”

_Is this guy for real?_

Ushijima’s deep voice echoed through the hallway, an emptiness around them that Oikawa was glad for. He hated having any sort of confrontation in front of others, mostly because he had a tendency to take things a little overboard. Though, to him, he felt he always did just the right amount. Iwaizumi would vehemently disagree though, complete with a smack to the back of the head in penance. 

Shaking his head, he re-entered the conversation at hand. He had no regrets in his life choices, in attending Seijoh, nor in anything his team had done. He told the taller man as much, refusing to back down even with the loss to Karasuno fresh in his mind. Just because a team was strong did not guarantee them the win. The thought had Oikawa smiling. 

Although the words stuck in his throat, he turned to keep walking as he bit out a parting shot, “Kageyama may just be getting started, but he’s no longer alone. And who knows? When crows flock, they might even kill a huge, white eagle.” 

Pausing for just a moment, he glanced back over his shoulder as he continued, “Also, Ushiwaka. Remember to keep your eyes on the little monster. He bites. But don’t look too closely, there are others on his side who bite harder.” Whether his words were advice of things to come or a threat to warn him off Hinata, Oikawa wasn’t really sure. 

All he knew was that Ushijima both hated and coveted unpredictability, the trait both alluring and repulsive to the left handed spiker. And the thought that Hinata could become the target of Ushijima’s curiosity left the taste of ash in his mouth. 

Later, much much later, Oikawa would come to realize that this is what jealousy tasted like. 

~*~

Hinata was basking in the joy of victory, gathered amongst his teammates. Hugs, slaps on the back, and raucous jostling a stark contrast to how they had left the court the last time they had played Seijoh. _Now, on to Shiratorizawa._ A flash of Ushijima Wakatoshi rocketed through his mind, the visual enough to send his blood boiling. _Just you wait, Ushiwaka. We’re coming._ The promise of facing such a revered powerhouse like a lit match to gasoline in his soul. 

Eventually, the high of victory waned enough that the creature comforts of food and a fresh change of clothes started to become a quickly rising priority. Grumbles of stomachs and the keen awareness of how quickly sweat from an intense game could turn sour pushed Karasuno to finish their celebration and depart. The court behind them left as a beacon of the amazing thing that had happened here. 

As they passed through the doors, they were quickly met by Yachi and Saeko as well as two of the men who participated in their practice match against the adult neighborhood team. Saeko quickly set her sights on Tanaka, thoroughly embarrassing Hinata’s senpai with shouts of congratulations and jeers of excitement. 

Eventually conversation turned to Kageyama and Hinata, praise for their work as a unit, their final play to end the game washed over him with a flush of embarrassment and a tang of disappointment. It wasn’t that Hinata didn’t enjoy his partnership with Kageyama, if anything he enjoyed it too much if his very inconvenient crush was any indication. But eventually, just once, he wanted to stand on his own as a player, not eternally tied in to the success of his teammate. 

Although he couldn’t say it was the worst thing in the world, flashes of the Seijoh setter and ace taking root in his mind as examples of what could be. Hinata wondered if he and Kageyama would ever link together the way those two did, their history and connection as teammates clear to any that observed them. The difference, to Hinata at least, was that Oikawa and Iwaizumi were powerful on their own, and they were acknowledged as such. But when they came together, that’s when magic happened.

Hinata wanted that same level of acknowledgement and magic so badly he could taste it, like the tangy melt of a meat bun on his tongue. Or...maybe he was just really really hungry. 

Several hours later, after they had filled their bellies and talked through their strategy for Shiratorizawa, Hinata let his mind wander. Tomorrow would be intense, but as he biked home and climbed the mountainous roads in the dark, he needed something else to distract him lest his nerves start to get the better of him. 

He flitted over several topics before settling in on one that encouraged more than fleeting interest. In another life, Hinata might have concerns regarding his sudden keen attention on Oikawa and Iwaizumi. As it was, he didn’t quite know what it meant that he was so closely studying the two older boys, boys who were not even his own teammates at that. 

But here, in this moment, he let thoughts and emotions surge to the forefront, playing through flashes of the game and the moments after. The low ball of something jumbled and heavy that had sat, unacknowledged, as his team had celebrated their victory. Sadness and empathy over the looks of regret and loss that had passed between the two 3rd years. A small pinch of guilt over being the one to deliver the killing blow. 

It always seemed like there was something more between the two Seijoh teammates. An aura that Hinata didn’t know enough about to pinpoint what it meant. But he hoped that whatever it was transcended volleyball. He knew if he ever had the chance to make a connection like that, he wouldn't give it up for the world. Then again, he was fairly inexperienced in the world outside of school and sport, so what did he really know about it. 

What was more interesting to Hinata; however, was the recurring feeling of eyes on him. Both during and after the game, he could have sworn someone was watching him, the gaze of whoever it was almost like a physical caress. Each time he had turned he had been met with either Oikawa or Iwaizumi, though neither were actually looking at him by the time he had sought out the source of the attention. 

It might have been all in his mind, but he could have sworn that the two Aoba Johsai players were the cause for the hairs lifting on his neck and tingling in the base of his skull. The question really, was why? What on Earth could be so interesting about him? 

He wasn’t nearly at either player’s level; he had barely even begun really. He was learning, still clumsy and awkward at times, not quite understanding where he should be or what he should be doing. All he had going for him was the surprise of his jump, his quick with Kageyama, and his overall sense of perseverance that he carried with him like a badge. If you included his bull headed stubbornness to never give up and devotion to toppling those that were perceived to be better than him, then _maybe_ their interest could be explained. Almost like how children would press their noses to the glass in a zoo when they saw a new animal for the first time, curiosity piqued at the foreign sight. 

_Or maybe they weren’t looking at you at all and you’re just overthinking._ Shaking his head, he turned down the path to take him home. The night was dark and peaceful, a little chilly with the slow progression through fall and into winter. He was happy that his journey had been uneventful and he gave a little prayer that the weather would hold for his ride back to school in the morning. Arriving at his house, he set his bike to the side, kicked out the stand so it didn’t topple over, and started pulling off his gloves and scarf as he made his way to the door. 

As he stepped into the entryway, staying quiet so as not to wake his mother and sister with the late hour, he let one last thought filter through him before closing the subject, not willing to linger further on what it all meant.

_I hope that’s not the last I see of them, it would be a shame if it was._

~*~ 

~The next day - Karasuno vs. Shiratorizawa~

Iwaizumi took the steps into the building two at a time, swallowing down the lingering upset at being here as a spectator instead of a player for the Miyagi Prefecture Championship. He opened the door, hurrying through the maze like hallways knowing the game had already started. 

His lateness was his own fault really. Even though Oikawa had adamantly said he wouldn’t be caught dead attending this match, Iwaizumi knew better. There was no chance that the setter would miss this, either out of hate for Shiratorizawa or curiosity for the new and improved Karasuno, he would be here. 

His tardiness was entirely due to his indecision on whether or not he should hunt down his long time friend, the same way he had in years past when similar conditions arose. The only difference really being the level of uncertainty that still lingered between them. When every decision felt like wading through a field of landmines, it took a little time to work through what to do. He hoped they figured it out soon, the constant worry that he would over step or cross some unspoken boundary was draining. Things had eased slightly in the months following their breakup, but they still had a ways to go before they were anywhere near where they were before they had started. Sometimes it was just _easier_ to stay away and he hated himself for thinking as much. 

To be completely honest with himself though, it wasn’t just Oikawa driving his indecision. His sudden and unexplained intrigue with Karasuno’s #10 made him uneasy. It was strange for him to be so drawn to someone he had only spoken a handful of words to, someone who was a rival, a stranger. The only other person that had happened with was Oikawa, back before they had become childhood friends who dug in the dirt and showed each other the bugs they uncovered from freshly upturned earth. 

The sudden onset of new possibilities, new friendship, was unwelcome when his relationship with Oikawa, the one he truly cared about, was balanced so precariously. One step too far in either direction and they would tumble, drifting apart and losing a lifetime of memories. The last thing he needed to do was give more fodder to the curiosity and interest slowly catching fire in his thoughts by watching Hinata play. Although it would be interesting to see him in action while he wasn’t the one facing him down on the other side of the net. _Shit._

Eventually, as he had vocalized his frustration with his own indecision in the form of a frustrated yell, he had given up and just did what felt right.

Now here he was, scouring the stands full of excited spectators watching the game take place on the court below, searching for the familiar head of perfectly styled brunette hair. Spotting his target, he quickly made his way around the upper pavilion before trudging down the stadium seats to his childhood friend and teammate. 

Unable to help himself, smile obvious in his voice, “I thought you said you weren’t coming. ‘Wouldn’t be caught dead even if you paid me’, I believe was the phrase you used.” 

Oikawa jumped slightly, startling at the new voice speaking to him, “And here I was worried that you would abandon tradition and not come find me at all.” 

“You should know I will always come for you, Tooru-kun. Always.” Silence met his statement and he decided to take his seat, settling in to watch the game already in action. “How are they doing?” 

Oikawa’s gaze had drifted back to the court, as his eyes, slightly obscured by his glasses, remained focused on the play, “Ushiwaka is getting the better of them. It seems like every time they get into a rhythm something happens and they have to start over. Even so, it’s too close to call really.”

Iwaizumi smiled, somewhat smug, “So you _do_ want Karasuno to win.”

Oikawa scoffed, “Can’t I have both lose? I would love nothing more than to see both Ushiwaka and Tobio-kun put down. Although, it wouldn’t be the worst thing to watch Shiratorizawa tumble from their pedestal.”

Shaking his head, Iwaizumi snorted, “You know, you really do have the worst personality sometimes.” 

~*~

_Why am I here?_

The thought filtered through Oikawa on repeat. Why _was_ he here? The allure of watching a potential trainwreck maybe? A desire to see Shiratorizawa fall to Karasuno? The draw to see the flash of orange hair and viscous smile in action once again? 

As it stood, he was pleasantly happy that Iwaizumi had found him. Had bothered to come at all. His presence was a solid block of comfort at his side, the routine familiar and soothing. For a moment, when the game had started and they were well on their way to the end of the first set, he had thought that for the first time in their long friendship Iwaizumi wasn’t coming and he would be left here alone.

It gave him hope that they were slowly stumbling their way back to how things were _before_ it all went to hell. 

_You should know I will always come for you._ Oikawa would never admit it, but those words from Iwaizumi had eased something deep and constricted in his chest. The confirmation that they were still in this together, no matter how challenging, a welcome reprieve from the continual self doubt and seemingly endless sadness. 

As they sat there, eyes intent on the match, they fell back into the familiar and comfortable routine. Sometimes they commented on what was happening, most of the time they were silent, quiet observers to the intensity laid before them. 

It wasn’t until halfway through the 4th set that Oikawa caught himself bristling with frustration and maybe even anger.

It wasn’t long before Iwaizumi noticed, “Everything okay?” 

Oikawa churned on his observations, trying to figure out how to convey his thoughts, “For as much as Kageyama has changed, he remains eternally the same.” The words were curt, harsh, and easy to discern that he was displeased with something. 

Iwaizumi surprised him with a simple retort of, “So you noticed it too, huh?” 

He nodded, voicing his thoughts aloud, “Kageyama has always been quiet and reserved, except for when he steps onto the court.” He mulled over his words before continuing, “He’s always been quick to anger, slow to praise and has a never ending stream of critique at the ready for his teammates. But this is different.” 

He had noticed it through the 2nd and 3rd sets, by chance really. It was a brief sag of shoulders that he had never picked up on before, probably because the only other times he really paid attention to Karasuno was during a game. In those moments he had his own team to worry about and little room for excess observation. But here, in the stands of a game that was not his own, he had all the time in the world to just watch. 

And he didn’t much like what he was seeing. It was subtle, a miracle he picked up on it at all. But once he had, every pause between plays his eyes zeroed in on Karasuno’s #9 and #10. Most of the time the interactions on the team were typical; filled with “I’m sorry” or “Good Job” sprinkled through with minor coaching here and there. _Except_ between Kageyama and Hinata. Those interactions were either a harsh critique from the setter to the middle blocker or nothing at all. Sure, when they did well the rest of the team of crows celebrated with cheers and high fives, but there was a distinct lack of acknowledgement from the raven haired boy. 

Most times, the team would move on quickly and ready themselves for the next play. Sometimes Hinata fought back with harsh words, conveyed by the expression of his face and the tension through his body, even though what exactly was said was indiscernible from this far away. 

And then sometimes, the times that made Oikawa want to rise from his seat and spike as many balls to the back of Kageyama’s head as he could before he got caught, the reaction from Hinata was slight and yet almost heartbreaking. In those times, after the team's attention had moved on and Hinata was by himself and out of the spotlight, for just a moment, his shoulders would droop in defeat. The motion was almost like the smaller boy was collapsing in on himself, head hanging forward and covering his face with the tumble of his hair.

It only ever lasted a second, a blink really. But the moment he picked up on what was happening, Oikawa saw it, every single time. And apparently, Iwaizumi had seen it as well.

“If I was his setter I would never let a single second of any of that happen.” Out of his periphery, he saw Iwaizumi nod his head, jaw ticking with tension. “I don’t care how new or inexperienced he is, how does Kageyama not see the untapped potential that Hinata brings? The fact that he can hit Kageyama’s quick as fast as he can toss it should be enough of an indicator.” 

“For a while, I wanted to smack that tall blonde bean pole, too.” Iwaizumi shook his head, “But it looks like he’s that way with everyone. Although, I don’t care if you can block Ushijima or not, it’s no excuse to be an asshole.” 

“Have you also noticed how, no matter what’s happening, Karasuno never looks defeated?” At Iwaizumi’s nod, Oikawa continued, “It’s like Hinata is a walking, talking reset button. How does he do that? I have never seen it before. It’s like nothing ever phases him and then he just… passes it along to the rest of them.”

“Although I don’t know how long that will last if whatever _that_ is continues.” Iwaizumi gestured, moving his hand side to side, referencing the lingering tension between the setter and middle blocker. Iwaizumi hesitated as if unsure, “We could go talk to him?”

Oikawa snorted, “What business do I have trying to start some weird relationship with Hinata? I’m not even on his team and I’m a 3rd year. I won’t be around long enough for any of it to really matter.” 

“We.” 

Oikawa startled, “What?” 

Iwaizumi repeated, “We. _We_ would go talk to him.” 

Oikawa took a moment to study Iwaizumi, to really look at him. He watched as deep brown eyes flicked between his own and somewhere to the side, presumably where Hinata was currently located on the court. He saw the earnestness in his gaze and the tension of discomfort vibrating through his long time friend. Iwaizumi, though popular due to his athleticism and proximity to Oikawa, didn’t make friends easily. Didn’t really express an interest in getting to know people...until now that is. 

“Is this, uh… something like, well, _that?”_ A ball of embarrassment crept up Oikawa’s throat, threatening to choke him. 

Iwaizumi’s cheeks flushed, “Well, he’s, uh....cute and all. But I don’t know if it’s _that_ really. I just know that I want.... Well, I want to know more.” Iwaizumi shrugged, as if at a loss for how to explain himself. “You?”

Oikawa tried to remember how to breathe, “I guess you’re right, and he is cute.” _Beautiful really._ “But even if I wanted to know more, how on earth could that happen? And there’s so little time left in the year and then we’re gone, off to university or whatever.” _And I don’t think I could take it if Hinata turns into another person that I want and can’t have._

Iwaizumi smiled and Oikawa worried that his unspoken thoughts had still made their way out somehow. “Technology is a beautiful thing. Besides, I doubt this is the last we’ll see of Hinata, even after high school. He loves volleyball too much to ever settle for anything else. So isn’t it good enough if the only thing we manage is to make this friendly rivalry a little more….well, friendly?” 

“Who says he’s even a rival? This is me we’re talking about here.”

Iwaizumi huffed a laugh, “You really are the worst, you know that right?”

~*~

The 5th and final set of the match was… intense. Chaotic. A battle of wills between two teams determined to persevere. Even Iwaizumi was sweating in his seat, muscles twitching in time with each play, feeling what he would do with every spike, serve, and set.

And then came the finishing blow, of course, from Kageyama and Hinata. Fitting. Iwaizumi took a small measure of satisfaction in the look of disbelief that painted itself across Ushijima’s face for just a second before settling back into his usual mask of indifference. The man thought he was infallible. It was about time he tasted the agony of defeat. 

The fact that such a scenario came at the hands of Hinata filled Iwaizumi with a tingling warmth akin to satisfaction and maybe a little bit of awe. The little monster was getting his claws and he had just toppled the god that was Ushiwaka. _That’s bound to make some waves._

Next to him, Oikawa stood, “Let’s get out of here before the award ceremony. If I have to sit through that, I might puke.” 

Iwaizumi smacked him, “You can’t be decent for even a second, can you?” 

Together, they were pulled into the swell of people leaving the gymnasium, spectators no longer interested now that the match was over. When the tide of humanity abated slightly, they slowed their pace, wandering through the building and absorbing the excited chatter steeped in disbelief. The exclamations of incredulousness brought a smile to his face. 

Throughout it all, Oikawa looked lost in thought so Iwaizumi contented himself with quietly walking next to his friend, weaving in and out of clusters of people as they strolled with no real destination. 

“How do we do this?” The question broke the silence between them, causing Iwaizumi’s eyes to widen in surprise. Oikawa clarified, “Talk to him, I mean? I don’t want to call him out in front of his team, that seems weird. Although I wouldn’t mind pissing off Tobio-kun a little bit.” The vicious smirk that stretched across Oikawa’s beautiful face was the thing of nightmares.

“We could just...wait around? See if we can catch him for a second alone?” Iwaizumi shrugged, “I don’t exactly have a detailed plan here and this isn’t exactly rocket science. He’s just a guy. Who likes volleyball. Same as us. Easy.” 

Oikawa snorted, sarcasm clear in his tone, “Easy. Right.”

Ultimately they settled in somewhere between where Karasuno would come out of the gym and where they would need to gather in order to catch their bus. They propped themselves to the side of the hallway, leaning against brick and plaster as they listened to the faint echoes of the awards ceremony, the sound faraway and distorted. 

Iwaizumi, unable to handle the silence and uncertainty any longer, spoke up, “Do you think the same thing about us?” He caught the startled jump from Oikawa out of the corner of his eye.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean,” Iwaizumi sighed, “Do you think that now that volleyball is done, there is no point in us continuing… whatever it is that we have?” 

Oikawa cleared his throat, hesitating as though searching for the right words, “I think that… I still care about you. That you’re still my best friend.” He was slowly picking up speed, confidence entering his tone, “I think that I’m sorry this has been so hard. And that I wish we still talked more. I think that sometimes I hate the fact that I still only really see _you_ , that you block out everything else. I think that I’m lucky to still have you.” He trailed off.

Iwaizumi, unwilling to interrupt, waited for whatever Oikawa was about to say. His heart in his throat and his chest tight. 

“I think that letting go of you or pretending we’re strangers would be the worst thing in the world. So no, I don’t think it’s pointless continuing… whatever it is that we have. I would rather have this, however broken and fucked up, than nothing at all.” 

Iwaizumi’s tension wooshed out of him with a breath, “Yeah. Me too.” Oikawa’s shoulder’s released, his body relaxing as if he had been prepared for a battle that was no longer necessary. 

They fell back into companionable silence, watching and waiting. Eventually they saw the familiar black track suits of Karasuno’s team and they searched intently among the excited cluster of players for the familiar head of fiery hair. 

After the third pass, not seeing the person he was looking for, Iwaizumi muttered, “He’s not there. I hope we didn’t miss him already.” 

So they waited a little longer, impatient that they had already missed their chance. Just when they were ready to give up and try to find another way, a blur of orange and black danced across their vision. 

Seeing that Hinata was obviously hurrying to catch up with his teammates, Iwaizumi called out, “Oi! Hinata!”

The smaller boy jerked as if slapped, slightly losing his footing and slipping on the tile as he quickly came to a stop. Looking around, searching for the voice that had gained his attention, his eyes finally landed on the two 3rd years, still casually leaning against the wall. 

Hinata’s eyes widened almost comically large, “Iwa - Iwaizumi-san? Great King - er… Oikawa-san?”

Iwaizumi tried not to laugh. He still didn’t know who had really started the nickname for Oikawa, but he knew the brunette setter hated it. This should be....interesting. 

~*~ 

Hinata felt like he was floating. The game had ended in their victory, pleasantries had been exchanged, and his excitement was overwhelming. His joy made him feel like he could jump and never have to come back down. 

He had said as much to Ushijima and the Shiratorizawa team before the match today, that they would win, but the outcome was still shocking. They had _won._ They had beaten arguably the scariest team in the Miyagi prefecture. They had done it! 

Still on his high, he was standing next to Kageyama, staring at the final score of the last set. It had been close, but then, Hinata always knew that it would be close. Any match with Shiratorizawa in which Karasuno came out the victor would be. But as he stood there, side by side with his setter, a moroseness settled over him, threatening to strip the euphoria of the win from him entirely. 

He had so much he wanted to say to Kageyama. 

‘Good job’.

‘Can you believe it?’ 

‘Why won’t you tell me when I do well?’

‘Why can’t you see me?’

‘I like you.’

He held every single one of those thoughts inside, too nervous and unsure that anything he said would be welcome. His internal awkwardness was interrupted by the approach of possibly the last person he wanted to see: Ushijima.

“Next time, I will defeat you.” He stood there, slightly stunned at the declaration from the left handed spiker, both excited and annoyed at the words. 

Still riding the energy of victory, his frustration with Kageyama, and shock at Ushijima, Hinata all but snarled, “I _will_ get better and I _will_ beat you next time too!” 

His words were nearly drowned out by Kageyama’s own exclamations, but the intensity in his voice must have carried. Suddenly, the gaze of both players were on him; sapphire eyes widened in shock, olive eyes cool and calculating. Hinata froze, slightly intimidated by the focused scrutiny. 

After a breath, Ushijima nodded his head as if striking the deal and made his way back to his team. Kageyama remained staring at him, as if seeing him for the first time. Whether that was good or bad, Hinata didn’t really know. 

Seconds passed in silence, the impromptu stare down carrying on, each moment amping up his annoyance until he could contain it no longer, “What?!”

Kageyama shook his head, “As if you could catch up to me, let alone Ushiwaka.” With that parting shot, his teammate walked away. And once again, Hinata felt his heart ache in frustration. 

Waiting a few seconds, Hinata took a deep breath, pasted the smile back on his face, and rejoined his teammates. If he just joked around with Tanaka-senpai, if he tackled Nishinoya-senpai, listened to the praise from Daichi-san and Suga-san, it would be enough, right? It had to be enough. If it wasn’t, he feared this gaping hole of inadequacy would continue to grow until it consumed him. _Why can’t he just acknowledge me?_

_Why was it so important?_

Failing to uncover answers to either question, Hinata joined in his team’s celebration. He stood side by side with his fellow players, grin almost splitting his face as they received their certificate and medals. He laughed and yelled and endured countless pats and hugs. For today, it was enough. 

After the chaos slowed down and people started clearing out, Hinata held back, motioning for his teammates to go on without him. He just needed a second to bask in this moment, really take it in. To breathe in the lingering scent of sweat and victory. To absorb the feeling of triumph in one of the hardest games he would probably ever participate in.

He lost track of time and before he knew it, his cell was buzzing.

**Kageyama:** _Where are you, baka? We’re waiting for you so we can eat._

His stomach gave an answering growl, protesting his prolonged moment the same way his teammates were most likely cursing his name. He hiked his gym bag higher on to his shoulder and quickly dashed from the gymnasium. He really wasn’t looking forward to getting punched by Tanaka or tackled by Nishinoya in anger. 

He turned a corner, sliding slightly on the slick tile as a familiar voice called out, “Oi! Hinata!” 

He almost completely lost his footing this time as he skid to a stop, breathing out a sigh of relief, before looking around trying to spot where the voice had come from. His eyes finally settled on two very familiar faces that he had played against in a game _only yesterday._

“Iwa - Iwaizumi-san? Great King - er...Oikawa-san?” Why were they talking to him? In a moment Hinata froze, this was it. They were going to beat him up, take their revenge for the loss yesterday. He would probably never be able to play volleyball again after they were done with him. How bad was it going to be? What if - 

Oikawa interrupted his very detailed internal descriptions, “Woah, relax Chibi-chan. You look like someone is about to push you off a bridge or something.” The brunette setter pushed off the wall gracefully, “Though I would appreciate you not using the nickname you gave me, it makes me a little...punchy.” 

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, slapping Oikawa across the back of his head, slightly mussing his hair, “Be nice, Crappykawa. Thanks for finally sharing who gave you the nickname, though.” He turned to Hinata, tossing a smirk his way, “I’ve been trying to get that out of him for _months_ now.” 

Hinata chuckled nervously, “Uh… so what is it that you needed?” He shuffled his feet back and forth, unsure and edgy. Normally when he was approached by players from other teams, it wasn’t like this. They were moments of competition or declarations of victory. This seemed… planned somehow and Hinata didn’t quite know what to do with it. 

Having finished fixing his hair, Oikawa chimed in, “Wanted to say good game today. How does it feel, taking down a giant?” 

Hinata paused, nervous, “Uh...the same as it did yesterday, I guess. Oh! Wait! I didn’t mean...it like that. Please don’t hit me!” 

As the words sank in, Oikawa flushed a bright red and Iwaizumi burst into raucous laughter, “I think that may be the nicest compliment I’ve ever gotten, right Tooru-kun?”

Oikawa, still pink, retorted, “You haven’t seen anything yet, Chibi-chan. I’m just getting started!” He smirked, his face finally cooling as the embarrassment faded, “I may not face you in high school again, but I expect to see you down the road. Got that?” 

“Uh - uh, y-yeah! Of course! Great - I mean, Oikawa-san.” What on earth was happening here? This was the weirdest dream he had ever had. He was waiting to wake up at any moment and find that he was passed out on the bus headed home. He shifted subtly, pinching himself. _Ouch._

“I, uh, gotta get going?” _Why did I say that like it was a question!_ “My team is waiting, and they’re going to kill me if I don’t get there soon. They’re very-” His stomach interrupted him to give out a large gurgle, easily heard by the two 3rd years standing opposite him, “.....hungry.”

Oikawa snorted, unable to hold in his amusement. 

Iwaizumi sighed, “You two are so awkward.” He turned to fully face Hinata, “Give me your phone.”

“M-my what?”

Exuding patience, Iwaizumi repeated, “Your phone? You know… for talking, texting, and so on? Give it to me.” 

“U-uh, sure!” Hinata dropped to a crouch, unzipping his bag quickly and fumbling around for the device. After a few moments, he gave a triumphant ‘Ah-ha!’ and pulled his hand out...along with everything inside of his bag. “Uh...whoops! H-here you go.” 

Hinata handed the phone over and started frantically shoving things back into his duffle, thankful that he didn’t really have much in there other than a change of clothes, shoes, and some snacks. Iwaizumi pushed several buttons, far more than just a phone number, Hinata was sure, before waiting for Hinata to finish gathering his things. 

Iwaizumi handed him his phone, “Go get some food before that monster in your stomach eats you alive. We’ll talk to you soon.” 

“Y-yeah, sure. Okay.” _What?_ Hinata nodded before quickly darting in the direction of the bus that he was sure was full of very hungry teammates. 

As he rounded the last corner, conversation from the two he had left behind filtered his way. 

“That went well.”

“That went weird. He’s never going to speak to us again.” 

_What even is my life right now?_

As he boarded the bus, ducking flailed arms and angry curses with a repeated _‘Gomen!’_ , he found his seat. Shuffling back to relax he pulled out his phone and found a group text waiting for him. 

The first message was from his phone, but obviously had been sent by Iwaizumi while he was messing around with it. Hinata snorted at the messages, _what the hell?_

**Hinata:** _Hello Senpais!_

**Iwaizumi:** _Good game...again._

**Sparkling Idiot:** _Remember to eat healthy! I saw that Melonpan in your bag!_

**Iwaizumi:** _Okay, mom._

**Sparkling Idiot:** _How can I be his rival if his body gives out before he even graduates!_

**Iwaizumi:** _Leave him alone. Your ego really knows no bounds._

Hinata had so many questions, but they were already pulling over to get food before the journey home and he could feel the pang of hunger mixing with fatigue. Later… he would deal with it later.

_But why is Oikawa ‘Sparkling Idiot’?_

Later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for the read. I hope you enjoyed. It should also start picking up a little more from here, thanks for bearing with me!


	5. New Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forging friendships is hard. Being left behind sucks. Sometimes we all just want someone to listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. So this one kinda exploded on me. Apparently, my inner muse is REALLY invested in making sure the basis of a relationship is established before things get challenging. Because I'm mean like that. 
> 
> Once again - No Beta. Mistakes are all me, but I tried my hardest. 
> 
> Thanks for the read!

It turns out that Oikawa was named “Sparkling Idiot” because, in Iwaizumi’s words,  _ ‘when he smiles to try and get his way, he sparkles. But he’s still an idiot.’ _ To a point, Hinata understood the gesture, but still secretly changed his name to ‘The Great King’ in his phone and swore to himself that should Oikawa ever find out he would plead insanity. 

Also, ‘Later’ turned out to be on the bus ride back to Karasuno. He had climbed aboard, belly full and sleepy, to see another handful of messages. Most were Iwaizumi and Oikawa sniping at each other followed by a few texts asking how his meal was and whether or not he had fallen asleep in his Oyakodon. He fired off a response that his food was delicious and no, he hadn’t fallen asleep in his meal, although it took some yelling from Ukai-Sensei to wake them all up enough to eat. He typed quickly, angling the phone for privacy, positive that at any moment one of his teammates would see who he was messaging and immediately vote him off the team as a traitor.

He could see it in his mind, Kageyama creeping over his shoulder and shouting, ‘ _ How could you?!?’.  _ Tanaka and Nishinoya would wrap him tightly in his track suit turning it into a straight jacket before tossing him out of one of the popout windows in the back of the vehicle. He swallowed, trying not to shake or potentially throw up his dinner all over Tanaka. Again.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. It wouldn’t be that bad, right? Surely his team had some measure of sanity that would prevent them from making Hinata walk the figurative plank. Right? On second thought, better to just make sure he kept this to himself.

He spent the remainder of the journey home alternating between snoozing lightly and chatting with Oikawa and Iwaizumi. The conversation was varied and random, but he made sure to ask why Iwaizumi called Oikawa a “Sparkling Idiot”, see aforementioned explanation, to which the brunette setter went into a detailed description of how exactly the sparkles came to be. Hinata understood exactly zero percent of what Oikawa was talking about, but swore up and down that the sparkles were necessary if only to make sure he didn’t become the focus of the Seijoh players ire.  _ These two are so weird. _

By the time their bus pulled into Karasuno parking lot, Hinata was alternating between fighting off a grin and fighting off a yawn. For the first time, in a very very long time, he didn’t feel the need to latch on to Kageyama in some effort to prove his dedication. He felt content and relaxed, enough that he immediately grabbed his bike to head for home, ignoring the confused look the raven haired setter tossed his way. 

Before setting off, he checked his phone one last time. 

**The Great King:** _ Are you glad to be home? I’m sure you’re ready to fall asleep. Unless you’re anything like me and adrenaline keeps you up all night. _

**Iwaizumi:** _ You’re forgetting to mention your obsessive need to review game footage is also not helpful to getting any sleep. _

**Hinata:** _ I still have to bike the rest of the way home. So another 45 minutes ish, I think. And then definitely crashing. Game footage? That’s a thing?  _

Hinata slipped his phone back into his pocket, not waiting for a response, eager to crawl into bed and dream about Nationals. He kicked up the stand on his bike and began the long trek, powering through the hills and mountainous roads before coasting back into his front door. The air already chillier than the night before, a sign that winter was closing in fast. He made a note to himself to start bringing a heavier jacket and ear muffs with him. There was nothing worse than trying to bike home with full body shivers and chattering teeth. 

So tired he was nearly stumbling, he opened the front door and kicked off his shoes before quickly making his way to his bedroom and shutting himself inside quietly. He dazedly peeled off his track suit and underthings before pulling on a sleep shirt and some boxers.  _ Shower tomorrow. Too tired. Sleeeeeeep. _

He fell into his bed face first, a move that on a normal day would have been welcoming, but today he had somehow tossed his phone on to his pillow in just the right spot that the plastic casing squished his nose.  _ Ouch. _

Rolling over, rubbing at the abused flesh, he leaned to place the device on his night table. Just as he was plugging in the charging cord, the light for a new message flashed. Curious, he opened the text: 

**The Great King:** _ You have to WHAT?  _

**The Great King:** _ That’s insane. _

**The Great King:** _ You do know it’s dark outside right?  _

**The Great King:** _ Chibi-chan?  _

**The Great King:** _ HINATA?!?! _

**Iwaizumi:** _ He said 45 minutes. At least give him that much, baka.  _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Also, yes. Typically you review game footage of your opponents before the game to try and pick up anything useful.  _ **_This_ ** _ idiot though, watches footage of the game the night after we play.  _

Uncertainty pinched through his chest, why did Oikawa care whether or not he biked home in the dark? If anything, shouldn’t he wish he tumbled down into a ditch or something? He sat back and groaned, raking calloused fingers through his fluffy orange hair as he chewed on the corner of his lip.  _ None of this makes any sense.  _

**Hinata:** _ What’s so crazy about biking? It’s not that bad, just a couple hills and then the mountain pass. Easy, really. _

For a few moments, there was no response. Hinata moved to set the phone down and then startled as one last stream of texts came through quickly.

**The Great King:** _ A MOUNTAIN?! _

**The Great King:** _ What? I...what? _

**The Great King:** _ I knew it, you’re insane.  _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Leave the kid alone, Crappykawa. You’re just pissed because if we put you on a mountain you would die before you made it to the top. _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Get some sleep. Later. _

**The Great King:** _ This explains SOOOO much. Night, Chibi-chan!  _

Smile stealing across his face one last time, Hinata dropped the phone on the table. He let out a little laugh of disbelief before smooshing his face into his pillow and promptly falling into the deepest sleep he had had in a long time. 

~*~

Hinata was drifting in the contented haze between sleep and awareness. His body felt heavy and comfortable, but his mind was playing a record of yesterday in brief flashes of light and sound. The memories, even the weird ones, filled him with a buzzing warmth that left him feeling bubbly and satisfied.

Eventually, the tantalizing whiffs of breakfast made their way to him, pulling him the rest of the way from slumber into the land of the living. He laid there a few more moments, basking in this brief quiet before his stomach gave a loud grumble, prompting him to get moving with the day. Rising, he arranged his blankets and pillows back into a semblance of order before stumbling, bleary eyed, into the bathroom across the hall. 

Taking care of the pressure of his bladder and the lingering taste of last night’s dinner and sleep in his mouth first, he turned on the shower. Already he could smell how terrible of an idea it was to sleep last night before washing and knew there was no way his mother or his sister would allow him to eat with them until it was taken care of. 

He rinsed quickly, blobbing soap onto his hair and body before scrubbing, allowing the suds to whisk away the echoes of yesterday.  _ I wonder if Oikawa uses a special shampoo.  _ his eyes widened in shock at the stray thought before blinking rapidly, soap stinging his eyes in his moment of surprise. Shaking his head, eyes red and teary, he finished his shower, pulling a fluffy towel from the rack in the corner and briskly drying his hair and body. 

Pulling on the underwear, sweat pants, and lounge shirt he had brought in with him, he took one last look in the mirror to ensure everything was in order. His eyes were swollen and agitated from the soap, a stark contrast to the honey-whiskey of his iris. His skin was damp and flushed from the warmth of the water and his hair was a mixture of fluff where his hair had dried staticky and slicked to his skin where he had missed towelling the locks entirely.  _ I wonder how Iwaizumi gets his hair to spike so neatly. Gah!  _

Hinata shook his head again, confused as to where these thoughts were coming from. Why did it matter how Iwaizumi and Oikawa did their hair? Why on earth was he even noticing? They weren’t even really friends. Yet? Maybe they would be.  _ Or maybe this is all some prank and you’re too stupid to see it.  _ Flinging off the errant thoughts he decided none of it really mattered.

In another life he might care more about how he looked, but, regardless, today was Sunday. At most he would go out and find somewhere to mess around with his volleyball, potentially with Kageyama if the setter wasn’t in a foul mood. And then he would do his homework before sitting down with his mother and sister for dinner and then going to sleep. Like every other Sunday. 

Then why did today feel a little...different? 

He jolted out of his thoughts as his mother called him for breakfast down the hall. Quickly hanging his towel up to dry and dumping his dirty clothing into his room, he sprinted to the kitchen where his mother and Natsu were waiting for him. Natsu had already started in on her meal and his mother was just finishing setting out his plate and utensils. 

“Thanks, mom! Looks great!” She smiled at him, eyes kind and warm as they always were. He took his seat, picking up his chopsticks before taking a deep inhale of the delicious pork and rice aroma. 

“Sorry we couldn’t make it yesterday, Shouyou.” She was in the process of wiping down the kitchen, not willing to risk the mess lingering any longer than necessary. “I heard you won! Congratulations.” 

Hinata flushed, cheeks heating, “Thanks! It was really tough, but we did it! Now we’re going to Nation-” He was cut off by the ringing of the house phone. Knowing that it was probably his mother’s work, he deflated slightly. 

His mom ruffled his hair and murmured, “I’m proud of you, Shouyou. Can you watch Natsu today?” Looks like leaving the house to play volleyball wasn’t happening, he would have to find another way to stay entertained.

He nodded as his mother picked up the line, “Hinata residence...Of course... I’ll be there soon... Ja.” He understood being a single mother was complicated, more than he probably would ever fully comprehend, but sometimes the timing of these things was just the worst. 

As his mom gathered her things and called out a swift ‘Goodbye, I love you!’ to them, Hinata ruffled Natu’s hair, “Looks like it’s you and me today, kid. Got any ideas on what to do?”

She laughed at him, wiggling out from under his palm before chanting the name of some kid’s TV show she had been watching recently.  _ Fun. _

~*~ 

A few hours had passed, Natsu enraptured in her show until she finally fell asleep somewhere in the early afternoon. Hinata had moved her from the very uncomfortable looking propped up position to lay across the couch and covered her with a blanket. He sat on the floor just in front of her, turning off the TV and taking in the silence.

He felt...agitated. Not restless as he usually was, fidgeting and looking for something to burn off excess energy. He felt like he was waiting for something. For what, he had no clue. But there was something nagging the back of his mind, keeping him from being able to fully relax into the afternoon.

Since he had to beg off playing volleyball today, his texts to Kageyama and then again to Nishinoya and Tanaka explaining the situation, he had already completed his homework. The rest of the day yawned before him, filled with nothing besides making dinner and watching his little sister. Normally this kind of day, with Natsu quietly napping, would have Hinata playing video games or watching volleyball clips. But today he couldn’t sit still, worried that there was something he was missing.

It wasn’t until an hour or two later, when he had flipped open his phone and read through the message thread with Oikawa and Iwaizumi for the fiftieth time, that he figured out what it was. 

Neither of them had messaged him today. Hinata was torn on the implications, half of him comfortable in the normalcy that this represented and the other half suddenly disappointed that their correspondence hadn’t lingered a little longer before tapering off back into everyday life. Sighing, he stood before setting the phone on the coffee table and wandering into the kitchen to start on dinner. 

Natsu would be awake and hungry soon and sometimes his mom came home early and was able to join them for the evening meal. Resolving to not let this bother him any further, he started collecting ingredients and laying out a cutting board and pans. At the very least, his focus would be directed elsewhere as he cooked, he could worry about the rest of it later.

Maybe tomorrow would be different.

~*~

Tomorrow was not different, nor the next day or the day after that. Hinata was still agitated, half accepting that the weird interactions with the two Seijoh players were a small fluke that had come and gone whereas the rest of him was not quite ready to write off the entire experience as something so minimal. 

His biggest source of frustration was not quite knowing what to do about the whole thing. None of this had ever happened to him before, everything from being sought out to sharing contact information to their brief and entertaining correspondence through the evening. Not a single bit of it was in Hinata’s experience base and it left him feeling a little lost.  _ How does someone usually tackle this stuff?  _

When he thought through his normal communications with his teammates or the friends he had made on other teams, he was always the one to instigate. First to text, call, or initiate plans. But in those situations, the connections between himself and the others made sense. 

This… this didn’t make any sense  _ at all  _ to him.

Going back to school meant restarting practice and kicking off a new effort to garner support in the community for their team and the trip ahead of them to Tokyo. Yachi had made up a new marketing scheme that he thought was brilliant, even if he had ultimately lost to Kageyama when they measured the tallest jump amongst them. 

Although he would admit that it was thrilling watching several boys, who weren’t normally present in the gym for volleyball practice, jerk in shock at his jump.  _ Take that, suckers. _ Why did everyone assume he was incapable just because he was short? It was the worst. 

The feeling wasn’t made any better after finding out about Kageyama’s invitation to the Japan Youth Camp. And then Tsukki’s invitation to the 1st years only camp being hosted by the Shiratorizawa coach for the first time ever. It wasn’t that he thought he was _better_ than anyone on his team, though he would never admit that out loud, but he was sure he wasn’t _that_ _bad_ either. He knew if someone just took a chance on him, teaching him and mentoring him, he would do nothing but succeed. He wouldn’t _allow_ himself to fail. But instead...

It just felt like the world was moving on without him, some perceived shortcoming causing him to be left behind.  _ Agh! This sucks!  _

Even still, they had practice to do and the date for Nationals wasn’t getting any further away. Pushing the frustrations and the hurt aside, he put his mind back into Volleyball. He would figure something out, he always did. 

Now if he could only figure out what to do about two puzzling 3rd years that had started occupying a surprising amount of space in his thoughts lately.

It wasn’t until several days later that he gained any clarity. He was standing outside of the gym, practice having just finished, waiting for Kageyama so that he could ask for some more tosses. He had been re-reading the message thread with the Seijoh players for the thousandth time, no closer to an answer than he had been on Sunday. 

“That’s the third time I’ve heard you sigh in the last five minutes.” Sugawara meandered up next to him, leaning against the side of the building in a mirror of Hinata’s pose, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black team track pants. “I feel like if I didn’t at least ask, I would be the worst mentor in the world. So...what’s going on?” 

Hinata chewed his lip, grateful that he had someone who could maybe help him with this, but still nervous nonetheless. He kicked the toes of his shoes into the dirt, second guessing what he should or shouldn’t say. His hands fidgeted with the phone, turning the device over and over in his fingers, thinking. 

“Shouyou-kun, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Suga’s voice was gentle and calming, enough that Hinata somehow found the courage to share the thoughts milling through his mind.

“After the game last weekend, when I was late getting on the bus and you all got mad at me? I ran into someone unexpected, not literally of course. Although with my track record it probably wouldn’t be surprising if I did. You know, run into them. It’s probably not the most surpri-” He was cut off, laughter clear in Suga’s voice.

“Shouyou-kun. You’re rambling. What happened?” The bite of the cold outside made Suga’s breath come out in great fogs of white. Hinata took a deep breath, focusing on what he wanted to say, trying not to let the chill get to him and make his teeth chatter.

“I ran into someone unexpected. They asked for my number, demanded it really. We chatted for a little bit that night.” He chewed his lip, abusing the flesh as he thought through how to share his problem. “Then the next day, nothing. We haven’t talked since then, and I have no clue what to do about it. It’s weird, right? Or am I just making this weird? Am I the weird one? What if this whole thing-” Suga cut him off again.

“Breathe.” Suga laughed at him outright this time, gentle chuckles that still somehow managed to calm him.  _ How does he do that?  _ “Would you mind telling me who it was? Might help me give you advice if I know a little bit more.” 

Hinata glanced around, a light flush rising to his cheeks in embarrassment and maybe a little guilt, “Promise not to tell anyone on the team? They might vote me out if they knew.” At Suga’s firm nod he continued. “It was.. O-Oikawa-san and Iwaizumi-san.”

Suga’s grin grew further as he hummed in thought, “Okay. Although unexpected, not super surprising. Mostly just the timing of it all really.” 

Hinata’s eyes widened, “What do you mean ‘not super surprising’?! They play, well..er.. _ played _ I guess, for  _ Seijoh.  _ This isn’t even a friendly rivalry, like with Nekoma. This is just a rivalry, complete with revenge quests and everything! What on earth makes this whole thing  _ not  _ a surprise?”

Suga snorted,  _ snorted, _ at him. “You really don’t get it, do you?” Suga sighed. “It’s not surprising because you could make friends with a hornet’s nest if you tried hard enough. I wouldn’t be shocked if you told me you were chatting with Ushijima tomorrow.” He studiously ignored Hinata’s shudder of horror at the thought. “My point is, people are drawn to you. It doesn’t surprise me because it’s  _ normal _ where you’re concerned.” 

Hinata rubbed his hands into his face in frustration, his fingers chilly against his flushed cheeks, “Okay, so ignoring the fact that I’m apparently a freak of nature who  _ could  _ make friends with Ushijima. Ushijima, who is the human equivalent of a hornet’s nest, per your example. What do I do with…” Hinata gestured lamely at his phone, “... _ this.”  _

Suga pulled his hand out of his pocket, rubbing his palm across his mouth to hide the wide smile from Hinata, before raking his fingers through his own silver locks. “Well that depends, did they respond to you at all when you reached out?”

Hinata threw him a confused look, “Huh? What do you mean ‘reached out’?”

“You know, when you messaged them on Sunday or after that. Did they say anything back? Anything at all?” Suga studied Hinata’s face and the bewilderment that lingered in his expression, “You  _ did _ message them right?” 

“Ah...no. Was I supposed to?” Hinata sheepishly played with the hair at the back of his head, feeling the tips of his ears heat, having a feeling that maybe he was the one being an idiot this entire time.

This time, Suga fully laughed at him, complete with chortles and snorts, the air billowing out of him and fogging like he was a dragon. Suga laughed so loudly and so long that he doubled over, gasping for breath as he clutched his hands to his face. If Hinata wasn’t mistaken, there were literal  _ tears _ in his senpai’s eyes. 

Hinata huffed, frustrated and rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes. But  _ why?” _

Suga took several deep breaths, composing himself, before he straightened. He swiped a finger under each eye, gathering any moisture that may have escaped in his mirth. He cleared his throat a few times, chuckles continuing to escape as he slowly calmed. 

“They’re probably trying to figure out if you even want to talk to them.” Suga cleared his throat once more, “If what you said is anything to go by, they want to make sure they’re not forcing you to chat with them. They’re most likely waiting for you to reach out, express an interest.” 

“Agh! This is stupid!” Hinata huffed, and at Suga’s curious head tilt, he continued. “If you want to talk to someone, just  _ talk _ to them. If you don’t want to talk to someone, just  _ tell  _ them. Why is there so much…” He waved his hand in circles, searching for the right words. 

“Complication to it?” Suga finished for him. Hinata nodded his head emphatically. “Well, per your words, you are a ‘freak of nature’. Not everyone has the confidence to just...lay it all out there the way you do. It’s charming, really. But sometimes people dance around things because it’s easier to do that than risk outright rejection.” 

“It’s just me! What on earth is scary about  _ me _ ?” Hinata mumbled to himself. 

Suga just sighed again, “You really have no idea. Whatever, just message them. See what happens. There’s Daichi-san, it’s time for me to head home.” Suga waved to the Karasuno captain, pushing away from the building and Hinata. “Don’t stay too late practicing with Kageyama. The fact that you have to bike home, over a mountain, in the dark and in this cold freaks me out.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Hinata waved his teammate off into night, “And thanks, Suga-san. I appreciate it.” The elder boy smiled back at him warmly before turning away and joining his fellow 3rd years. Hinata sighed, relieved to have some answers. He pulled up his phone and, without thinking about it too hard, typed out a quick message. He hit ‘send’ before he could think better of it and shoved the cell back into his bag. Just in time too.

“Baka!” Kageyama’s shout from inside the gymnasium startled him, his head peeking around the corner just enough to see Hinata standing there, “Are we practicing or not?!” 

“I’m coming!” Hinata shouted back before shoving his uncertainties to the side and rejoining his teammate, glad to be out of the cold. “Toss to me!” 

~*~

Hours later, after spiking set after set, cleaning up quickly and biking home, he finally had the courage to pull the phone from his gym bag. Unwilling to see if there was a message waiting for him, torn between whether he would be more relieved at silence or a response, he set the phone on his side table and went about getting ready for bed. After a quick shower, changing into bed clothes, refilling his water and any other menial thing he could think to do, he finally crawled under his covers. 

Staring at his ceiling he tried to psych himself up.  _ Just look, Shouyou. If they responded, cool. If they didn’t, your life can go back to the way it was. Stop being a wuss.  _ Hinata let out a yell of frustration, to which he heard Natsu shout back ‘Shut Up! I’m trying to sleep!’ from down the hall.

Before he could send his mind reeling further, the phone vibrated, shuffling the plastic casing across the hard surface. He grabbed it quickly, flipping to his messages and releasing a relieved sigh. 

**Hinata:** _ Uh..Hey!...? _

**The Great King:** _ FINALLY!  _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Stop complaining, this was your stupid idea. _

**The Great King:** _ It’s always polite to make sure someone ACTUALLY wants to talk to you. Bullying is frowned upon, Iwa-chan!  _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Except we waited so long, he probably thought WE didn’t want to talk to HIM. _

**The Great King:** _ Don’t be silly. EVERYONE knows this is how things are, right Hinata-kun?  _

**The Great King:** _ Hinata-kun?  _

**The Great King:** _ Chibi-chan?! _

**The Great King:** _ He hates us now, for sure. _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Don’t be stupid. He’s probably just busy. _

The last two messages came in, phone buzzing in his hand.  _ Oh crap!  _ He fumbled, trying to reply quickly and ended up dropping the phone on his face.  _ Shit, shit, shit.  _ Finally typing out a message with shaking fingers, he hit ‘send’. 

**Hinata:** _ No! No. No hate. Just...uh.. Nervous?  _

He waited with baited breath until Oikawa responded, followed quickly by Iwaizumi. With an ease that surprised even him, they fell back into casual conversation. Oikawa and Iwaizumi shared how their week was going, how strange it was to no longer be practicing after school every day, and how difficult their studies had gotten as of late. Hinata bemoaned his loss to Kageyama’s jump height for Yachi’s flyer, his frustration at Tsukki and Kageyama being selected for camps and not him, and how excited he was for Nationals. 

Hinata was sure at some point conversation would become stilted or forced, but it never did. Conversation flowed easily between them, even through the tiny screen of his phone. They talked of volleyball, plans after high school, and anything else that happened to come up. For a second, just a fleeting moment, Hinata felt like he actually fit in somewhere, like the edges of a puzzle piece finally connecting with the slots and valleys around it. Some time later, when the messages came less frequently and Hinata found himself nodding off, he begged goodnight. 

Turning off his lights and setting the phone aside, he finally let himself be taken by the bliss of sleep. A smile plastered across his lips and a bubble of warmth in his chest at the possibilities in this newfound friendship. Who knew this would happen, to  _ him _ of all people?

~*~

Time passed quickly in the weeks following the Miyagi Prefecture Championship. Practices were challenging and focused, the level of dedication amongst the team elevated from what it was even before the qualifiers. School was...well, school. Hinata’s grades were maintained just high enough to remain eligible to play and very little more. 

His conversations with Oikawa and Iwaizumi continued, sometimes daily, sometimes several days apart. Topics were varied, ranging from light hearted fluff to hopes and dreams and fears. It was strange to Hinata, the comfort he found in these conversations. Things he wouldn’t even say to his teammates he found himself spewing to the former Seijoh ace and setter. He shared his frustration with some of his shortfalls as a player and they made suggestions on how to improve. They shared how they were uncertain of their futures following high school, and he encouraged them to follow wherever their passions took them. 

A few times they had spoken of meeting up, hanging out or playing together. For one reason or another, at each opportunity their plans had fallen through. For now, Hinata was content with their routine conversations, the hustle of the end of the year consuming most of his time anyway. 

Before he knew it, December was upon them and the week of the Japan Youth Training Camp and Myagi Prefecture 1st Years Training Camp was looming. Hinata had come up with an idea, a terribly stupid and reckless idea. Something he refused to voice to anyone outside of himself, not even his new found friends at Seijoh. 

He was going to show up to the 1st Years Training Camp, invite or no invite. He would probably piss Tsukki off beyond all reason, but it was a risk he was willing to take to get even a  _ taste _ of what it would be like to train against such strong opponents. It would either work or he would have to embrace the embarrassment and face his teammates with nothing to show for it but wounded pride. But no matter what, he  _ had _ to try. 

~*~

_ That went...Better than expected.  _ Hinata was still standing in the office, slightly dazed. He had expected something like this to happen, he had shown up here entirely uninvited. He was ready to be taken aside, for Coach Ukai and Takeda-sensei to be contacted. He was ready to be yelled at and berated for his rash choices.

He was not, however, ready for Coach Washijo to offer him the position of ball boy. And while the opportunity wasn’t nearly what he had been hoping for, it was more than he had planned on actually being able to accomplish. Somehow, he would use this to his advantage. Hopefully. Probably. 

If nothing else, he would prove that he was more than just an accessory for Kageyama. Coach Washijo’s words rang through his ears, a reminder that he still wasn’t seen as a powerful opponent on his own. ‘ _ You’re nothing without Kageyama.’ _

_ We’ll see about that. _

Nodding to himself, he rejoined the players on the court. He shouted his name and the fact that he was here to be a ball boy, something in retrospect he realized could have been done with a little more calm. He had only wanted to convey his dedication to this opportunity, as lame as some may find it. Instead, he was sure Coach Washijo hated him even more and the joking whispers amongst the players who were  _ actually  _ invited was enough to bring a blush of embarrassment to his face. 

_ Whatever. I’m not here for them to like me, I’m here to learn. _ Shaking his head resolutely, he watched the players take the court and introduced himself to the other ball boys who were first years at Shiratorizawa. Quickly, they collected water bottles and prepared the ball bins for practice to start. 

Everything after that was a blur of controlled chaos. He was continually moving, only stopping briefly as the practice itself took breaks. His day was nothing more than repetitive flashes of filling water bottles, collecting rogue balls, refilling ball bins and continual shouts from Washijo-sensei. 

As the last ball dropped and their final drill concluded, Hinata went about resetting the gear, cleaning the court and preparing the gym for the next day of camp. Then,  _ finally,  _ he was able to get his hands on a ball and start replicating the motions and drills he saw during the day. Unfortunately, he was limited by the fact that he was alone and most of the drills required at least a single partner, but he didn’t let that stop him. Even going so far as to try a jump serve, which failed spectacularly. 

He breathed in a gulp of air, swallowing his frustration. He knew that any powerful player had something that they did that was powerful and challenging to counteract. He didn’t have anything special that he could do on his own,  _ yet. _ But he would find something. 

He would find a way to stand on his own.  _ Without Kageyama. _

The rest of the camp passed quickly, days blurring together. He withstood the wrath of Takeda-sensei, and Coach Ukai...and Daichi-san….and everyone else. He survived the long daily bike ride, the grueling practices he wasn’t allowed to participate in, and the never ending criticism from Washijo-sensei.

He even survived the strange and confusing conversations with Ushijima and Tendou. But somewhere in the chaos of chasing ball after ball, curious tension with the Seijoh Players Kindaichi and Kunimi, and making connections he never thought possible amongst the players in attendance, he ultimately found a purpose for being there. 

Was it revolutionary? No. Would it translate into him becoming a better player? Hopefully. 

But he would always remember the moments where he was able to just  _ see _ what was going on. It was a perspective he had never had before, watching the motions of players whether they were directly or indirectly involved with the play of the ball. Somewhere in those minutes and seconds, time slowed down and patterns clicked that he had never realized existed before. The experience was similar to what happened as he was flying through the air, ready to spike, and he could suddenly see with glaring clarity over a wall or block. 

What he did with his new perspective remained to be seen, but he was glad for the experience all the same. 

~*~

He had just made it home, the last long bike ride from Shiratorizawa completed as the final day of camp had concluded earlier that evening. Now that the chaos of it all faded into the background, he took what felt like his first full breath of air since this had all begun. 

His first thought strayed to Kageyama, wondering how his week at the Tokyo Youth Camp had gone. His chest was simultaneously hit with a pang of longing and the fire of competition. On the forefront of his mind, he couldn’t wait to see if Kageyama had changed at all, if for no other reason than to take on the additional challenge of keeping up with his dark haired teammate. 

Alternatively, he missed Kageyama. The emotion was a strange and foreign feeling to him. He still couldn’t figure out what had caused this stupid crush to develop in the first place, but he was ultimately stuck dealing with the repercussions of such feelings. Maybe it was the fact that Kageyama was the first person in his life to take his competitiveness seriously, in all aspects of his life. 

Or maybe they just spent so much time together that Hinata’s brain was misfiring. Something akin to Stockholm Syndrome, that was a thing right?  _ Yeah, let’s go with that,  _ he thought to himself determinedly. The last thing he wanted was for this entirely unwelcome feeling to continue to grow and take up  _ more  _ space in his mind.

He shook any remaining thoughts of the raven haired setter out of his mind, only to be replaced by curiosity for Oikawa and Iwaizumi. He had been so busy this week that he had hardly spoken with them, which wasn’t entirely out of character. He wondered what they had been up to this week, although he knew lately their lives had had very little to do with volleyball the way his had. 

His sudden interest in their lives beyond the sport they shared together was another one of those things he didn’t want to really dive into further. The fact that he had made friends and talked regularly with the two former Aoba Johsai players was still a foreign enough concept in his mind. He had no desire to add any  _ more  _ confusion to his life, one perplexing relationship was quite enough at the moment, thank you very much. 

Even so, he was practically brimming with the desire to share his experiences with the two older boys. He glanced at the time on his phone, noting the late hour, before deciding that the conversation could wait another day. He had homework to do and school to attend in the morning. For tonight, his focus was to shower, finish his schoolwork, and then pass out.

Hopefully dreaming of ways his recent volleyball revelations could be enacted in his game play. The last thing he wanted was to truly go back to his teammates empty handed in such a crucial time before the Spring Tournament. 

~*~

The following day passed in a blur of exhaustion, school, and practice. He had woken up late and was forced to skip breakfast in order to bike quickly to school. His first encounter with Kageyama went about as expected, racing each other to the gymnasium, their rivalry not dimming in the slightest after the week apart. A fact that Hinata was glad for in its inherent normalcy. He was able to face the music with his teammates, taking the teasing and joking about his reckless decisions with ease. And then, from there, everything was exactly as normal. 

So it surprised him when he finally left the gym that evening, having just finished extra spiking practice with Kageyama, to find a single text from Oikawa that simply stated ‘Call Me.’

His stomach dropped. Never in the history of ever was that a  _ good  _ message to receive. Deciding to put whatever it was off until he got home, his procrastination winning this round, he grabbed his backpack and duffle and quickly kicked off on his bike. He tried valiantly not to think about what Oikawa could possibly want to talk about with him enough to insist upon a phone call. Ideas filtered through his brain, each one more ridiculous than the last. 

_ They don’t want to be friends anymore… _

_ Iwaizumi got eaten by a bear… _

_ Oikawa is quitting volleyball forever… _

_ They were both volleyball aliens and needed to steal his volleyball skills to stay alive… _

Finally, he reached home, cheeks slightly blistering from the cold night air, mind racing with possibility and slightly sick at the prospect that any one of his outlandish guesses could be real. He called out a quick greeting to his mother and sister before hiding himself in his room, dropping his bags to the side and practically crushing his phone in a tight, agitated grip. 

He paced the floor quickly, trying to muster the courage to just pick up the damn phone and  _ call _ Oikawa. It was as the phone was in his hand, his hazel eyes staring at it like it would bite him, that another message came through. It was from Iwaizumi this time and simply stated ‘Stop panicking and just call.’

Breath whooshing out of him, he closed his eyes tightly and pressed the call button next to Oikawa’s name. It rang for what felt like ages, but was really only a single ring, before the line connected.

‘ _ Are you insane, Chibi-chan?!’  _ Oikawa’s voice pierced clearly through the line, followed by the sound of shuffling and a muted ‘put the damn thing on speaker’ from somewhere in the background. 

After a pause, another voice came through the air, Iwaizumi’s. ‘ _ I second that. Are you insane?’  _

Hinata blinked, not quite ready for the conversation and confused as to what they were talking about. “I mean… maybe. Why do you ask?”

‘ _ Why do I … Is he kidding? Tell me he’s kidding,’  _ Oikawa’s sarcasm clear, Hinata assumed that he was talking to Iwaizumi and kept his mouth shut. A derisive sigh filtered through the phone before Oikawa continued, ‘ _ I ran into Kindaichi-kun and Kunimi-kun today. Guess what the little birdies told me?’ _

“Ohhhh…” Hinata offered lamely, not at all expecting  _ this _ to be what was so urgent to discuss. “I was going to tell you, but everything kinda got away from me today.” 

Iwaizumi’s words came through this time, ‘ _ So you did actually show up, uninvited, to the first year’s camp?’ _

Hinata, feeling that this was a trap, kept his response simple, “Er...yeah?”

‘ _ So you are, in fact, INSANE.’  _ Oikawa only paused for a breath before continuing, ‘ _ I’m surprised that Coach Washijo didn’t EAT YOU FOR LUNCH. How on earth did you manage that?’ _

“Er...I thought for sure they were going to kick me out. Which was going to be  _ super  _ embarrassing,” Hinata chuckled awkwardly, “And then Washijo-sensei said that I could be a ball boy if I wanted to stick around. So I accepted and … did...that.” 

‘ _ Was that really the best thing to do so close to Nationals?”  _ Iwaizumi broke into the conversation, voice calm and mostly curious. 

“I know it might seem stupid, but I really feel like I learned a lot.” Hinata relaxed, rifling his free hand through his hair as sat down on the edge of his bed. Maybe he should be more upset with this conversation, afterall, who were  _ they _ to criticize his choices? 

But mostly, it kind of just felt like they… cared. That they just wanted the best for him, whatever that may be. It was a weird feeling to say the least, something he had gotten from very few people in his life. Not even  _ Kageyama _ selflessly cared about him, and they were supposed to be partners. Just this afternoon, the Karasuno setter had been more upset that Hinata had lost practice time than willing to hear anything that Hinata had to say about what he saw and how he wanted to use it.

Oikawa’s voice interrupted his internal ramblings, ‘ _ Oh yeah? Like what?’  _ Surprisingly his tone was also curious, like he actually wanted to hear what Hinata had to say. 

Hinata took a small breath, mulling over what he wanted to share as he got more comfortable. “Well… I have never watched a game from above before. So I was able to see  _ so much _ that didn’t make sense to me originally. Oh! I also kinda figured out how to read where a spike is going to go, though I still can’t really figure out how to receive it. Ah! Also blocking angles…” 

His excitement continued as time passed, Oikawa and Iwaizumi asking questions or giving advice regularly. Not a single moment did either of them make him feel stupid for what were arguably basic observations. Nor did they pass over his thoughts as unimportant or beneath them. He felt  _ heard _ and a tiny flicker started in his chest, small and barely there, but warm and welcoming all the same. Emotion clogged his throat, just for a moment.  _ Is this what acceptance feels like?  _

Their discussion lingered, until Hinata’s eyes were drooping and he was fighting off a yawn every other sentence. He was propped up in his bed, hand holding the phone to his ear, half wrapped up in sheets and blankets already.

Iwaizumi, ever the logical one, finally cut them off. ‘ _ It’s late, we should all get some sleep. It is a school night after all.’ _

“Yeah.” Yawn. “Good idea.” Yawn.

There was a brief pause, before Oikawa chimed in, ‘ _ We could… get together to actually hang out or something. After Nationals. Since you’re going to be busy until then.’ _

Hinata, half asleep and slowly losing his grip on the phone, murmured, “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

‘ _ Perfect. Sounds like a plan. G’night, Shouyou-kun.’  _ Iwaizumi gently breathed back.

All they received in response were tiny snores.


	6. Weight of Possibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future is coming, whether you're ready or not. Sometimes, it's hard to see the forest through the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, just a heads up, we're getting into Manga spoilers now. It's been interesting dancing around everything because I want this to age well as the anime continues forward. So if this chapter is a little weird, I apologize. 
> 
> Once again, no Beta. Just me and my mistakes if there are any, but I still tried real hard.
> 
> Thank you for all of the love and support! I really appreciate it, all of your kind words and kudos have made this super worth it to continue! 
> 
> Happy reading!

“I still can’t believe Shouyou-kun did that.” The words filtered in from the hallway, bringing a smile to Oikawa’s lips. Glancing up from his lunch, rice and pork delicately portioned out in a bento box, his eyes met Iwaizumi’s. The darker haired man was also wearing a grin as they shook their heads at each other. Their classroom was mostly empty, their peers finding friends to eat lunch with somewhere else, leaving them mostly to themselves. 

Even now, a week after the first year’s only camp had completed, Hinata was still the talk of the Seijoh underclassman who had attended. Granted, as they were not going to Nationals themselves, there wasn’t much else to talk about around standard practice and drills. It wasn’t surprising to him that gossip of the orange haired man’s unexpected appearance had spread like wildfire amongst the team and, while most would exclaim about Hinata’s rudeness, he had become some sort of idol to the first and second years. 

“He has no idea the effect he has on people.” Iwaizumi murmured before dropping a bite of his own lunch, beef with pickled cabbage, into his mouth. 

Oikawa nodded, chuckling softly to himself, “He made friends with Kindaichi.  _ Kindaichi.  _ I’m pretty sure Hinata originally called him Turnip-head,  _ to his face.”  _

Iwaizumi kicked his foot under the desk, “Baka,  _ I’m  _ the one who told you that happened. Stop trying to take credit for my stories.” He paused, piecing together another bite of this meal, “And I’m pretty sure, given enough time, he could befriend Ushiwaka  _ and  _ Tendou.” He shuddered as if the thought terrified him.

Oikawa nearly choked on the rice he was chewing, “Ugh. No thanks. We found Hinata first, I’m  _ not  _ sharing him with  _ Ushiwaka. _ ” He paused, registering his words, a bright flush coming to his cheeks, “I mean. Not like that. Uh...as friends! Just friends! Nothing  _ weird -”  _ He inhaled a piece of rice in his panicked babbling causing him to splutter and cough.

Iwaizumi laughed, pounding on his back with an open palm, waiting for his breath to even out and the risk of death to abate. “It’s okay, you like him.” Iwaizumi was quiet for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to say something else. “Is it… is it okay if I do too?”

_ How does he read me so well?  _ Oikawa’s face felt like it was on fire. He lifted a hand and covered his eyes, seeking a moment of privacy to filter through his thoughts.  _ Am I okay if Iwaizumi likes Hinata too?  _ He fidgeted with his hair, tugging at the small strand stretching across his forehead and drooping in front of his eye.

“I feel like I  _ should _ say it bothers me,” Oikawa sighed, dropping his arm to the desk and leaning back, pushing his meal away slightly. He adjusted his glasses, a nervous tic he couldn’t seem to get rid of, before continuing, “But I don’t know. It’s like you’ve been by my side for so long, why not this too?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi leaned back, mirroring his pose. “Yeah, I get what you mean. I feel that too.” 

They sat in silence, and while the mood wasn’t uncomfortable, it was pensive. Cautious of the dwindling time left in their break, they pulled their meals closer and resumed eating. The quiet carried on for several more minutes, the muted click of chopsticks the only sound between them.

As if triggered, they both spoke suddenly.

“You know I - “   


“I still - “

They paused, laughing, before Oikawa motioned for Iwaizumi to continue. “You know I noticed something. I was wondering if you noticed it too.” Oikawa nodded his head, waiting, “We don’t seem to… fight as much, anymore. Not meaningful fights, anyway. I mean, you’re always an idiot. But - do you know what I mean?” 

“We’re not dating anymore, what’s there to fight about?” Oikawa tilted his head as he offered a helpless shrug, his curiosity piqued.

Iwaizumi sighed, “There’s always plenty to fight about with you, baka.” He waved his hands in front of him, “But somehow, seeing how you interact with Shouyou-kun helps me see under all the bullshit you’re constantly spouting to what you actually want to say.” 

Oikawa bit his lip, mulling over their past conversations and picking out several opportunities where Iwaizumi normally would have bitten his head off… and surprisingly didn’t. “I guess...I could see that.” More importantly, something popped into his mind, “For me… I guess it’s more that he see’s where you’re actually being kind, even though you sound like a heartless asshole.” 

Time seems to stop for the barest of moments as they considered the implications of these discoveries, both of them glancing up and locking eyes, molten chocolate meeting olive green. Grins split their faces at the same time, mischievous and a little confused. Oikawa shook his head, breaking the moment and cleaning up his empty food container, packing away his things as Iwaizumi did the same. 

The first bell rang, signalling that classes would start again soon, and voices started growing in volume in the hall. They retook their seats, side by side, like always.

Before too many students returned, Iwaizumi asked, “What were you going to say?”

Oikawa laughed, feeling a small bubble of hope in his chest, “Just that I still love you.” The smile that Iwaizumi gave back made his heart pound.

~*~

“Have you figured out what you’re doing after graduation?” The voice came from slightly above him. Oikawa glanced up, briefly blinded by the winter sunlight peeking through the haze of a chilly day, to see Iwaizumi dropping to sit on the steps beside him. It had been several days since their excited classroom revelations, so while Oikawa was happy to see his friend, he was not excited for this conversation.

They had both just finished their counseling sessions with their adviser, Oikawa’s right before Iwaizumi’s. The discussion point had been about plans after high school, the same conversation they had been having for the last several months. Oikawa still didn’t really know, he was partially too afraid to think about it and simultaneously feeling the pressure of the future looming above him like an oppressive weight. 

“Ugh, not you too.” Oikawa elbowed Iwaizumi’s shoulder, dislodging the former Seijoh ace slightly. “I still have no idea.” 

“University entrance exams are coming up soon, some have even passed.” Iwaizumi mused as he leaned back, winter coat rustling with the movement, his elbows perched on the step behind him. In that moment, Oikawa was reminded of how beautiful Iwaizumi was, dark spiky hair that gave him an almost bed head look, dark olive eyes that felt like they could see through him at times, and a tall, toned body that somehow always remained slightly tanned even in the coldest of winters. 

“I don’t think I’m going to University either way.” Oikawa looked away from his long time friend and ex, leaning forward to brace his hands on his knees. “Although that answer seems to just piss everyone off, my family included.” 

“Hmm…” Iwaizumi said nothing more, letting his presence alone give space for Oikawa to think, or talk if he chose to. Oikawa glanced back at his friend, noting how his cheeks were tinged pink from the cold, breath coming out in foggy gusts amid the chilly air. 

“I wonder what Shouyou-kun would say.” He murmured, just loudly enough for Iwaizumi to hear him. He shifted his gaze forward, ruffling a hand through his feathered locks and adjusting his glasses. “He would probably tell me to quit being a coward and do what my heart told me. You know, for a little monster, he really is pretty sweet.” 

“You’re stalling.” Iwaizumi chimed in, blunt as usual and unwilling to let anything slide. Oikawa could feel the other boy’s eyes on him, a heat lingering on his back.

“Yeah, yeah.” Oikawa waved a hand through the air dismissively. “So what? We both know he’s going to overthrow the world with his dedication to volleyball or he’s going to just drag it kicking and screaming behind him. It’s hard to measure up to that level of passion sometimes. It’s intimidating.” 

They drifted into comfortable silence before Iwaizumi broke it, “Do you remember, when we were kids, how you would never shut up about how you were going to be the best volleyball player ever?” 

Oikawa snorted, “Yeah. And you told me I had no chance.” He huffed a laugh, “What was it that you said? Oh yeah. ‘You have to be at least good first, before you can be the best.’”

He caught Iwaizumi’s wince out of the corner of his eye, “I want to say I was trying to be motivational, but I was probably just being a dick. That being said, we both know you’re better than good.”

He scoffed, “But I’m not the best. And I never will be.” He covered his face with his hands, breath fogging his glasses in the small space created. “Kageyama is going to beat me. There are probably countless others out there that will too.” 

Iwaizumi hummed thoughtfully, “I think that depends on how you decide what ‘best’ means.” At Oikawa’s confused huff, he continued, “Kageyama is the best at creating the perfect play. But he’s  _ not  _ the best at perfecting his players.” 

“What the hell does that mean?” He turned his head to look at Iwaizumi, bewilderment clear on his features.

Iwaizumi clarified, humor lacing his tone, “I mean that Kageyama may become the best setter the world has ever seen. But  _ you _ could become the setter that creates the best  _ team _ the world has ever seen.” 

They sat in silence for several moments, ruminating over the words spoken between them. The temperature was dropping, falling away with the sun slowly making its way towards nightfall. Soon it would be time to head home, eat dinner, work on his studies and hopefully talk with Hinata a little bit amidst the smaller boy’s busy practice schedule. But for now, he basked in the solid comfort of Iwaizumi’s belief in him. 

Eventually, sick of his own thoughts littering his mind, he asked, “What are you doing after high school?”

Iwaizumi stood, wiping at the back of his pants to clear them of any debris, “I got into University. Sports Anatomy and Health Sciences.” 

Oikawa balked and, volume just short of screeching, exclaimed, “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

Iwaizumi shrugged, offering a hand to help him up from the stairs that were slowly numbing his legs, “You seemed to be struggling. Didn’t want to put more pressure on you.” Oikawa took the proffered assistance, also batting his pants free of any dirt or rocks. “It’s cold, we should get home.”

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you, Iwa-chan!” He could feel his smile stretch across his face, half exuberant, half forced. “Have you told Shouyou-kun yet?” 

Iwaizumi shook his head, “Haven’t really figured out how.” 

“Yeah, I can understand that.” His hand drifted to the card in his pocket, the very same card his adviser had handed him only that afternoon. He thumbed over the crisp edges, the slip of paper detailing the contact information for the coach of a team in Argentina. The tiny piece of cardstock felt heavy with the weight of his future and the decisions that needed to be made.

_ I can understand that.  _

~*~

The next few weeks were… chaotic. His studies were ramping up to close out his final year of high school and the choices to be made about his future were becoming critical. But the one bright spot in Oikawa’s day, other than Iwaizumi that is, were the frequent and entertaining conversations with the little crow that was currently losing his mind over going to Nationals.

From the brief text that had been sent, the Karasuno team had made it to Tokyo and were settling into their lodging. Throughout the evening, Hinata’s messages were disjointed and incomplete, a reflection, he was sure, of the boy’s current mental state the night before their first match. Eventually, the messages stopped coming entirely. Due to team meetings or an energy crash, he wasn’t sure which. 

His final parting words for the night were simple:

**Oikawa:** _ Good luck tomorrow, little monster. We’ll be watching. _

~*~ 

The first day of Nationals, Oikawa crowded next to Iwaizumi in the latter boy’s bedroom to view the games on a small laptop. For the first part of the day they merely kept an eye on how the first round of teams were doing, knowing that Karasuno wasn’t scheduled to play until later. In the meantime, they played video games on the TV and tried to pretend that there wasn’t some lingering tension between them begging to be acted upon. At least Oikawa felt the tension, several times catching himself before leaning in for a peck on the cheek or gently wiping away crumbs from the corner of Iwaizumi’s lip.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Karasuno took the court. At first, the game seemed rather rocky and for just a moment Oikawa felt his stomach drop, worried that this would be the first and last game of Hinata’s Nationals. And then, it seemed, Kageyama found his rhythm again and Karasuno worked their way to a steady victory over their first round opponents. The relieved sigh that Oikawa and Iwaizumi released after it was over caused both of them to chuckle, both boys amused at the strange yet vested interest they had in Hinata and his team. 

Later, after dinner, they received a message from Hinata that was entirely exclamation points. Oikawa chimed in with his congratulations as Iwaizumi did the same. Their conversation didn’t last very long, nothing more than a few excited notes back and forth, as Hinata explained they would be studying the following day’s opponents for the rest of the evening. 

~*~

The next day, Iwaizumi had to meet with some aunts and cousins that he had missed seeing during the holidays, so Oikawa was on his own. He had initially started watching the match on his laptop, locked away in his room, until his nerves got the better of him. He decided instead that he would go for his daily run and listen to the game along the way, hoping to work off any excess energy without driving his mother insane with his pacing. 

This was Nationals, so none of the teams could ever be categorized as ‘easy’, but there were some that were more concerning than others. And the team that Karasuno was facing off against that day most definitely fell into that category. Inarizaki High was powerful and unpredictable, primarily due to the twin duo that seemed to find another level of play against every opponent they faced. But then again, Hinata did the very same thing. 

And this time, in this game, the little crow evolved so gloriously that even Oikawa was stunned. It was like watching the pieces of a puzzle click together after searching for the perfect match for hours. So after scaring some poor woman and her child when he had given a frustrated yell, then finishing his run, and ultimately seeing Karasuno claw their way to victory, he was riding a high of excitement that he couldn’t wait to share.

**Oikawa:** _ LITTLE MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! _

**Iwa-Chan:** _ Congratulations, Shouyou-kun. _

**Oikawa:** _ You can’t do that to me again, my heart was pounding. I thought I would die. _

**Oikawa:** _ But you were like BWAH! And you got it! YOU GOT IT! _

**Iwa-Chan:** _ I think you broke the sparkling idiot. He’s less sparkle and more idiot now. _

**Iwa-Chan:** _ Get some food and rest, tomorrow is coming sooner than you think _

**Oikawa:** _ I am not broken, asshole. Just excited. Rude. _

It wasn’t until hours later that the response came in from Hinata, chaotic and quick, much like the orange haired boy himself. 

**Chibi-Chan:** _!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ I’m so happy we came to Nationals _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ Also Miya Atsumu is terrifying _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ He said one day he will set to me _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ But he said it like he wanted to kill me _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ We’re facing Nekoma tomorrow! Kenma is gonna be so mad when I beat him _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ Actually no he won’t _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ But Kuroo may suffocate me in my sleep _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ Do you think Bokuto will save me? Since he calls me his student and all?  _

**Chibi-Chan:** _ Probably not, he and Kuroo are like besties. Maybe Akaashi will save me _

Oikawa blinked at the stream of messages, unsure how to respond. So many different names, some he was familiar with, some not. He felt a ripple of tension pluck in his chest, which he refused to openly acknowledge as jealousy.  _ It’s not like I have a claim on him either, he doesn’t belong to me. _

Even so, sometimes Hinata’s never ending stream of friendships and frenemies, while a large part of his charm, could be frustrating. The idea that someone could easily step in and steal the connection bubbling and evolving between himself, Hinata, and Iwaizumi was enough to make him a little nauseous. He took a deep breath, calming himself before responding, choosing instead to skip over the random musings of the little crow.

**Oikawa:** _ One step at a time. Rest and get ready for tomorrow. _

**Oikawa:** _ Good luck!  _

**Iwa-Chan:** _ We’ll be watching, little monster _

**Oikawa:** _ Hey! That’s my line! Thief!  _

**Hinata:** _ Thanks! I appreciate it! Later!  _ __   
  


~*~

As the next morning arrived, Iwaizumi joined Oikawa at the setter’s home, sharing a quick breakfast and idle chatter with his mother before settling in on the living room couch. They propped up his laptop as his mother was preparing to go run errands, guaranteeing they would be undisturbed for several hours. 

The Nekoma vs. Karasuno match started shortly after they tuned in. Where the game against Inarizaki High the previous day had been explosive start to finish, this matchup with Nekoma seemed more like an intricate study in chess. Each team slowly moved their pieces into position before the final few turns racked up quickly in each set to declare the victor. 

Where the game against Inarizaki was the birth of a rivalry, explosive and full of emotion, this game was the demonstration of a long standing competitiveness reinvigorated by the stage of Nationals. The flow of the match was beautiful, strategic, and intense until its very last serve. It wasn’t until the final set concluded that both Oikawa and Iwaizumi realized how very tense they were, bodies rigid, fists clenched, and jaws tight. 

“I don’t know that I can survive another one of these.” Oikawa whined, dramatically flopping across the cushions of the couch. “It’s almost worse just watching.” 

“If there is one thing I know about you,” Iwaizumi murmured, “Being helpless is definitely not your thing. For better or worse, you’re a control freak.” Iwaizumi smoothed his fingers across his jaw and to the back of his neck, fingers pressing against tense muscles. 

“Pfft, what’s wrong with that?” Oikawa scoffed, flipping his hair out of his eyes, finger pointed at Iwaizumi’s chest. “Controlling your own destiny is never a bad thing.”

“Mmm,” Iwaizumi hummed, thinking. “It’s okay to a point. But when you stop looking at the things around you, when you stop being open to possibility, then it can be your very own downfall.” 

Oikawa threw a pillow at his friend’s head, laughing, “Iwa-chan, you sound like a fortune cookie.” The stuffed cushion bounced off Iwaizumi’s head, landing harmlessly on the floor. “Besides, Shouyou-kun is even more of a control freak than I am. Kid is dedicated to volleyball in a way that might be entirely unhealthy.” 

“We’ll have to disagree there, but it's okay. You’re an idiot anyway, so you can’t always be right.” Iwaizumi shook his head and chuckled, his expression a mask of faux sympathy. 

“Hey! That was mean!” Oikawa leapt forward, tackling Iwaizumi into the cushions, knees and elbows flailing as he pushed the other boy below him. He could feel his weight pressing into the other boy’s toned body, sinking into the plush cloth underneath them. His cheeks flame with embarrassment at the proximity between them, bodies touching from knee to chest, his face intimately near Iwaizumi’s. “Oh..er..s-sorry!”

Iwaizumi stopped him from lifting up, preventing his scramble to put some distance between them again. The other boy’s knuckles skated over his ear before fingers threaded lightly through his hair. “Shouyou-kun is different because he takes advantage of every opportunity that comes his way. Sometimes he makes the opportunities himself. But ultimately, he’s along for the ride and is always just excited to be there.” Iwaizumi smiled at him, dark olive eyes intent on his own, “But you...are like the maestro. Always in charge, always leading. I just think…. Sometimes you’re so stuck in the sheet of music you’re living that you don’t ever think that there’s the possibility of... _ more.” _

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa felt the delicate pressure of fingertips pulling him forward as his heart pounded, breath coming in pants, “You really do sound like a fucking fortune cookie.” Struck with such a keen sense of yearning, he gave in and closed the remaining gap between them, pressing his lips to the darker haired boy’s. The kiss stayed steady, airy and light, a passing moment of possibility and affection between them. 

Something was happening here, something that could be  _ everything _ to him. A shared connection between himself, Iwaizumi, and a little crow that seemed to be shaking up their very foundation. On the heels of that thought, reality crashed upon him, sharp and abrasive. 

They were graduating, Hinata was two years behind them. They were all arguably in the most formative years of their lives, changes abundant, the future a daunting prospect ahead of them. Iwaizumi was going to University and Oikawa… probably wasn’t even going to stay in the fucking country.

His secret pressed into his mind, stronger and more vicious than it had the last few weeks. He had contacted the coach in Argentina. They were discussing options for him to move there and to play volleyball in a professional league. Even still, this wasn’t a temporary thing like school or an internship. If this went well, he would be gone for good and never coming back. He would be leaving everyone and everything behind.

This was his dream, but sometimes, like now, it felt more like a nightmare. 

He hadn’t shared this secret with Iwaizumi.

He hadn’t shared this secret with Hinata.

He broke their kiss, both of them gasping and dazed. Iwaizumi, as if sensing his change in mood, let him go without a word as he lifted himself off the other boy and resettled himself a proper distance away. Soon, he would know whether or not he was truly leaving. Then, and only then, would he allow the scales to tip one way or the other in the tangled mess that felt like his life. For now, he would continue to walk this tight rope, holding tightly to the tethers between himself and the man he loved and the boy who was well on his way there. 

He cleared his throat, looking away and out the window, and changed the subject, “Too bad we can’t talk to Shouyou-kun right now. He’s probably nervous, getting ready for the next game.” He willed himself to relax, to let his troublesome thoughts pass and to enjoy the time he had with the boy who had been by his side for ages. 

Iwaizumi nodded, his breath still in the process of calming, “Probably. But the third day is brutal enough, I would rather not risk distracting him.” Iwaizumi shifted a few times, getting himself comfortable and maintaining the distance the Oikawa had placed between them.

They did their best to relax, calm words and observations passing between them as they waited for the next game to begin. Neither spoke of the kiss they had just shared. Neither acknowledged the buzzing energy in the air that never seemed to fully abate. Neither tried to clarify what it all meant or to answer the uncertainty swirling around them like smoke in the wind. 

Eventually, their attention refocused on the laptop as the next game started. First up was Fukurōdani's match against Mujinazaka, the first of the second round of day three matches. It was as the players on each team were being introduced that Oikawa started laughing, breaking the lingering tension, Iwaizumi’s startled jump increasing his chuckles. 

“Between the last game and this one,” Oikawa cleared his throat, mirth still permeating his voice, “I finally figured out all the names that Shouyou-kun dropped last night. It was driving me nuts not knowing who he was talking about.” 

“Ahh,” Iwaizumi nodded, although Oikawa noted the blush that rose to the other boy’s cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I could see how you would be annoyed by that.” 

Oikawai stared hard at his long time friend, something niggling in the back of his mind, “What aren’t you saying?” 

Iwaizumi’s flush deepened, the rosy pink turning a more pronounced red, “Er… so maybe you aren’t the only idiot that was bothered by it.” He paused, Oikawa taking in the embarrassed expression and how Iwaizumi was refusing to meet his eyes. “I… texted Daichi-san, the Karasuno captain… and asked? He told me as much as he knew himself.”

Oikawa blinked, stunned, “Uh… why?” 

“Why did I ask? Or why did he answer?” Iwaizumi was still avoiding his gaze, a nervous hand rubbing at the back of his head. At Oikawa’s continued stare, which he took to mean ‘ _ both’ _ , he shrugged, “I asked because, like you probably were, I was… jealous? And I guess he told me because Suga-san, er… you like to call him Mr. Refreshing? Suga-san told Daichi-san to expect to hear from you or me...eventually.” 

“I have… so many questions.” Oikawa paused, mulling over what he wanted to know first, “I guess first...what did he say?”

“Well,” Iwaizumi adjusted, cheeks finally returning to a normal color as he recounted the conversation, “Apparently Nekoma and Karasuno are long time rivals. So they started practicing against each other this year for the first time in awhile. That’s how Hinata met Kenma and Kuroo. And then they were invited to the practice camp that Nekoma participates in every year and that’s where he met Bokuto and Akaashi. 

“Also, Daichi-san said, in his own words, that we don’t need to worry about any of them as a ‘rival’. For various reasons, they’re all just friends and friendly competition with each other.” Iwaizumi trailed off, before adding, “Although, Daichi-san did say that Kageyama might be of concern.” 

“What does that mean?” Oikawa muttered, and then added, “Also, how does he know it’s like...that, when we ourselves just figured it out?” He chewed his lip, surprise clouding his thoughts as he digested everything he had been told.

“Apparently, whatever Suga-san said to him gave him that impression.” Iwaizumi shrugged, “I have no idea what the deal is with Kageyama. Everytime Shouyou-kun talks about him, I can’t get a read on how he feels. Most of the time he sounds frustrated and sometimes he sounds like he’s in awe.” 

A pit of worry took form in Oikawa’s gut, his thoughts returning to how impossible all of this was. They were leaving. Kageyama was with Hinata every day. If the raven haired setter ever thought to make a move, neither of them would be around to do very much about it. On top of that, they still didn’t even know if Hinata  _ himself _ was interested in them like that, or if he was even interested in men at all. For all they knew, the orange haired boy was straight. It wasn’t exactly easy to casually drop ‘ _ by the way, do you like dick?’  _ into conversation.

_ But then why did Suga-san give Daichi-san the impression that this was important? _

Oikawa dropped backwards, his arm draping across his forehead and covering his eyes, “Ugh. I can’t think about this anymore. It’s giving me a headache.” He chewed his lip, thoughtful, “Let’s get through this week and then meet up with Shouyou-kun like we planned. And then we can figure out,” he gestured aimlessly into the air with his other hand, “the rest of it.” 

“Such a delicate flower,” Iwaizumi’s dry tone brought a grin to his face, “but fine. We can deal with it later. Now get your ass up and pay attention, you might have to play against these people down the road. Time to start scoping the competition.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sat up, took a deep breath, and released the tension in his body. Today, just today, he would think about only Nationals and watching Hinata play. He could stay in the present and stop worrying about the future. Just for today.


	7. Bend Until It Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revelations and distance, the future is here and it kinda sucks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! Two updates in one weekend! Feeling on a roll.
> 
> More manga spoilers - just a heads up
> 
> Also...there's some NSFW in here :) I'm still kinda blushing from writing it.
> 
> As always, no Beta, all mistakes are my own
> 
> Enjoy!

_ Everything is falling apart. _

Iwaizumi stood in the doorway of his last class, watching Oikawa walk away from him  _ again.  _ The beautiful brunette was surrounded by a gaggle of girls and Iwaizumi just  _ knew _ that it was on purpose. He just didn’t know why he was doing it. 

It had been weeks since Nationals had concluded, the penetrating bite of January giving into the more moderate chill of February. Weeks since the conversations with Oikawa about the potential future between them and Hinata. Weeks since there had been any meaningful activity in the group message that had once brought him a sense of excitement.

Now, when he stared at the old thread of conversation he was filled with a sense of dread and foreboding that nothing would ever go back to the way it had been. 

Today, the same as many of the days previous, he had quickly collected his things and tried to get Oikawa’s attention before his childhood friend slipped out the door and into the afternoon air. And just like every time prior to this one, Oikawa gave a half-hearted acknowledgement, surrounded himself by his admirers like some sort of wall, and thoroughly ignored him. It was  _ infuriating. _

He huffed, swallowing his frustration so that his classmates wouldn’t ask him what was wrong  _ again _ , and walked out the door to the stairwell. The path was one he had taken many times, but only recently had he started doing it alone. All because something was up with his best friend and the other boy was refusing to speak of it. He wasn’t answering messages, calls, and had somehow convinced his family to pretend he wasn’t home on the few occasions that Iwaizumi had built the nerve to just show up at his house. Even though he had clearly seen the light shining bright in Oikawa’s window every time. It was enough that thoughts of strangling the bastard started to make their way into his dreams like he was some sort of psychopath.

If he developed some form of mental disorder from all of this, he would lay the blame entirely at Oikawa’s feet without even batting an eye. This level of frustration and stress wasn’t healthy for anyone and until he got some answers it wasn’t likely to go away any time soon.

He pushed through the door leading outside and took a deep breath of the chilly fresh air. Lost in his thoughts, he let his feet lead him home, a route that he knew like the back of his hand and required very little mental effort to follow. 

He mulled over the same things he had every other day the past few weeks, searching for whatever had happened to send everything spiraling. He still couldn’t find the single one thing that had imploded his relationship with not only Oikawa, but Hinata as well. 

He could pinpoint when the downward slide had started, but he was confident that Hinata’s collapse in the fourth round Nationals game against Kamomedai High wasn’t the entire reason for their relationship to fray and fall apart at the seams. Although those moments in themselves had been traumatizing. 

They had known before the game even started that it would be a challenging one, but Karasuno had been holding their own and Hinata’s level of play seemed to be more inspired than either of them had seen before. Things seemed to be moving along well, in the determined and elevated way that seemed to be a regular thing when it came to this team. And then Hinata had fallen after scoring a point with his spike to give his team the lead… and seemed to be having trouble getting up afterwards. 

There had been various speculation chattering across the feed on what could be happening and why Hinata was suddenly being shuffled off the court with the help of his teammates. Later, the medical staff had briefed the announcers that Hinata was removed from the match with an elevated fever and had most likely been playing the majority of the game in such a state. 

Iwaizumi recalled the look of fury mixed with concern that had overtaken Oikawa’s expression, Iwaizumi himself feeling an echo of such emotions. They had both spent the following few hours trying to calm down, the neverending litany of ‘what if’ scenarios playing through Iwaizumi’s mind as Oikawa randomly shouted expletives and exclamations of Hinata’s stupidity into the tense atmosphere. 

Later, after the match had ended in Karasuno’s loss and enough time had passed that concern overtook anger, they had reached out. 

**Sparkling Idiot:** _ Are you alright?  _

Seconds turned into minutes as they waited for a reply, Iwaizumi’s belly filled with nerves in the meantime. Finally, after what seemed like years, a single response came in.

**Jumping Idiot:** _ I’m sorry _

The knot that formed in his throat felt like a fist strangling him. All of the anger from earlier evaporated and was immediately replaced with sympathy and worry. Struggling to find the words to adequately respond, he sat staring at the text stretching across his screen. 

Oikawa, evidently, did not have the same reservations that he did, typing agitatedly as he muttered, “Damn idiot. Gonna give me an ulcer before twenty. Stupid volleyball morons.” The chime on his phone sounded a few moments later.

**Sparkling Idiot:** _ You can’t be so reckless with yourself. Some of us would care a great amount if you were hurt or worse. _

Iwaizumi smiled at the words. Leave it to Oikawa to be covering his true feelings with bluster and fuss when all he really felt was the same disquiet and anxiety that Iwaizumi did. Idiot. 

Ultimately, Hinata had been kept isolated from the rest of the team and sent home separately just in case what he had was contagious. He was banned from practice for a week to make sure he actually took the time to recover and it had taken about that amount of time before the younger boy had admitted to feeling like himself again. 

Only, as the orange haired boy recovered, things amongst the three of them didn’t follow suit. Somewhere in the time between Hinata falling ill and his eventual recovery, Oikawa had started acting strange. He was present in their continued chats, but he seemed disconnected somehow. Like his mind was somewhere else or he was doing the bare minimum in order to not raise suspicion that something was amiss. But Iwaizumi had known the man for far too long to not realize that his friend was acting strangely, although he never commented and neither did Hinata.

This had continued for several days, Oikawa continually putting off making good on their promise to all get together and hangout after Nationals. Hinata had shared that he was going to practice with Kageyama on the weekend, since their plans had fallen through again and he was eager to play and get his hands on a ball. 

The final straw to whatever tight rope they had been walking seemed to come later that evening. He had just finished dinner with his family, settling in to work on school work for the following week when his phone chimed. The words that plastered across his screen made him want to vomit.

**Jumping Idiot:** _ Kageyama kissed me today _

**Jumping Idiot:** _ I don’t know who else to talk to _

**Jumping Idiot:** _ Is that….weird?  _

He chewed on his lip, unsure how to respond in a way that wasn’t immediately off putting and very caveman like in nature. First and foremost, Hinata was his friend, and his friend was asking him something very personal. If he messed this up, there was no coming back, Iwaizumi could feel it. 

**Iwaizumi:** _ Are you okay? Are you… upset about it? _

**Jumping Idiot:** _ I didn’t… hate it. It was unexpected though.  _

**Iwaizumi:** _ Is it something you’re interested in? Do you like men?  _

**Jumping Idiot:** _ It doesn’t really bother me, I don’t think I’m gay though. But I don’t think I’m straight.  _ _   
_ **Jumping Idiot:** _ Am I a freak?  _

Iwaizumi’s heart jumped with happiness before sinking with dread. Hinata had just confirmed something that he didn’t know until this moment, that Iwaizumi and Oikawa had a chance if he didn’t care much about gender. But on the heels of that it also meant that Kageyama had a chance as well, something that was currently burning in his mind as he tried to figure out how to respond. Oikawa was silent and Iwaizumi wished he had insight into what his ex lover was thinking at this very moment. 

**Iwaizumi:** _ Of course you’re not a freak. Like who you like. Do what makes you happy.  _

This was the moment that Oikawa chose to chime in and the one word message took him entirely by surprise.

**Sparkling Idiot:** _ Well, that’s just perfect. _

There was silence for a moment, but Oikawa offered nothing more. Several minutes later, Hinata messaged again.

**Jumping Idiot:** _ Did I do something wrong?  _

**Iwaizumi:** _ No, you didn’t do anything wrong. _

And even though Iwaizumi whole-heartedly believed those words, their conversation died and he heard nothing more from Oikawa nor Hinata for the remainder of the evening. 

The silence had dragged for several days until Hinata had attempted to reach out again. But the message felt forced and the interaction died quickly, Oikawa never responding through the whole thing. 

After several more attempts over the following weeks from Iwaizumi and Hinata, met with silence from Oikawa, their thread of messages remained inactive. On the side, Iwaizumi had been trying to reach out to his childhood friend to figure out what was going on and was met with nothing but quiet on that front as well. 

He came back to himself as he pushed through the gate leading to the front steps of his home, still processing information in the back of his mind. He opened the door, toed off his shoes and stepped into his house slippers before calling out a greeting to whoever may be home. He was met with silence indicating that everyone was out for one reason or another and he had the space to himself for the time being. Good, he wasn’t in the mood to try and explain why he was frustrated and why Oikawa hadn’t been around for awhile…. _ again. _

The obvious answer was that Oikawa was upset that Kageyama had kissed Hinata. He himself was annoyed and jealous of the situation, but even so, the odd behavior had started before that. He refused to think that that one text from the orange haired boy was enough to set off this entire chain of events and erect a wall of silence from Oikawa. There had to be something else going on. He was sure of it and he was going to find out one way or another what it was.

~*~

His opportunity came several days later, completely by chance. A gift from whatever deity took pity upon him and his continued attempts to puzzle out what the hell was going on. He had been walking home from his brief trip to the store, picking up a few basic things that had gotten low and couldn’t wait for his mother’s next grocery run. As he was passing the park where he and Oikawa had played almost constantly as children, his eyes passed over a familiar figure sitting on a bench next to where he had fallen at age 7 and busted his lip open after dropping off the monkey bars. 

Not one to pass over chance encounters, especially now that Oikawa was actively avoiding him, he made quick work of walking down the hill from the sidewalk and plopping down next to the boy who was obviously lost in thought.

“You shouldn’t sit out here too long, you’ll catch a cold.” He murmured the words, looking to get Oikawa’s attention, not scare him out of his mind. Even so, the other boy jumped slightly at the intrusion and turned startled eyes his direction before he relaxed at the familiar face. Before Oikawa could respond, making up some excuse to leave or something equally infuriating, he continued, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you just going to keep ghosting me until I give up?” 

Oikawa sighed, his shoulders drooping, “I didn’t mean to ghost you, at least that’s not how I wanted to approach this.”

Iwaizumi’s face heated with anger, “Then don’t ghost me. It’s pretty simple.” He took a breath, he didn’t want to fight, he just wanted to know what the hell was going on. “Did I do something wrong? Is this a hint that you don’t want to be friends anymore?” 

Oikawa sputtered, “No! Of course not! You didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Then did Shouyou-kun do something and I’m getting lumped in with him?” Iwaizumi asked softly, uncertain how sensitive this topic was as they hadn’t spoken about anything that had been said in their last real conversation. 

Oikawa huffed out a breath as he wiped at his nose, pink with the cold, “No. That’s not it either.” 

“Then what is it? Just tell me.” Iwaizumi’s voice hardened, frustration and impatience clear in his tone. He stared at Oikawa, noting how his eyes dropped to the ground and his whole body sagged as if defeated. 

“Do you remember how I always talked about playing volleyball for the rest of my life?” Feathery hair fluttered in the gentle breeze, pushing cold air against already flushed skin, “I wanted this my whole life, and now it’s here and I kind of don’t want it anymore.”

“I don’t understand.” Iwaizumi shook his head, confused as he pulled his hat lower on his ears that were already aching with the chill, “You should follow your dream. If you have it, that’s a good thing, right?”

Oikawa snorted, pulling his red scarf higher to cover his neck and jaw, slightly muffling his words, “What if I have to give up everything to get it?” His fingers, hidden by black slim gloves, fidgeted with the buttons of his coat. 

“What do you mean?” Iwaizumi’s stomach started to fill with dread, afraid that all of this was so much worse than he had imagined. His own fingers trembled as he set the bag of groceries on the bench beside him before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. 

“You know,” Oikawa smiled, though it held no joy, “It might be a good thing. It’s hard for me to really look at anyone else when you’re around anyway. You pull my attention like some kind of drug. How can I move on with my life if you’re constantly dragging me back to you?” Iwaizumi gritted his teeth as he waited for the rest of the answer, unwilling to agree or disagree with Oikawa on this topic when everything in him was simply screaming  _ ‘you don’t move on, you stay with me you baka.’ _

After a few moments of charged silence, Oikawa finally dropped the hammer that brought melancholy to his heart and bile to his throat, “I’m going to Argentina to play on a team professionally. I found out the day after Nationals ended.” 

“How long?” He choked the words out, “How long will you be gone?” Although, he already knew the answer to that. It was the same answer any professional athlete would give in the same situation, the answer he didn’t want to hear but needed to anyway.

“If I suck? Maybe only a year or two.” Oikawa shrugged, “If it goes well, maybe forever. But you knew that already, didn’t you.” Oikawa grinned, cold and distant, fingers tugging on the edge of Iwaizumi’s hat teasingly.

Iwaizumi snorted, moisture crawling into the corners of his eyes, “And here I thought that telling you about my plan to study abroad was going to suck.” He sniffed and wiped at his nose, choking on all of these  _ feelings  _ and wishing that they would just stop and let him breath for a minute.

“Oh yeah?” Oikawa spoke the words on a laugh, tinkling with humor at the revelation, “Where to?”

“California. There’s an athletic trainer there that I want to try and study under.” Iwaizumi, while normally excited about his goals, felt suddenly hollow, his words monotone and dry.

“Well,” Oikawa smiled, “At least the time difference would suck less.” Iwaizumi couldn’t help but huff a laugh at the half-hearted attempt to make him feel better. 

They sat quietly, huddling in on themselves to escape the biting chill of the mid-February air. Iwaizumi was running through the puzzle again, piecing together interactions, the timeline, and seeing everything from a new lense.

“Is that why you stopped talking to Shouyou-kun?” Iwaizumi gently asked the question, already partially knowing the answer but curious at the rationale for Oikawa’s actions. 

Oikawa barked out a disdainful laugh, “Yeah.” He paused, the setter pulling his scarf up to his nose as if to hide from his own words, “It’s just too hard. He’s already so close to being another thing that I desperately want but can’t have.” Molten chocolate eyes flick over to him, the implication clear that Iwaizumi was the ‘other thing’ in this scenario. “And then, when he told us about Kageyama, I just thought about how unfair it would be to drag him into something like this when he already has someone who is  _ right there _ .” 

“Are you going to tell him?” Iwaizumi asked, curious.

Oikawa shook his head, “I already kinda killed it, right? What’s the point of reaching out if I’m just going to squash it again. That seems unnecessarily cruel. Besides, are  _ you _ going to tell him about  _ your _ plans? You actually still have a chance here, you know.” 

Iwaizumi didn’t respond for a long while, lost in his own thoughts as he wondered at where his future was taking him and how the boy two years his junior fit into those plans. Plans that no longer included having Oikawa, his best friend and man he still loved, by his side. 

“Like you said, it’s already finished. It would be cruel to reach out just to end it all again.” Iwaizumi turned to meet Oikawa’s gaze with his own, “You’re right. It’s not fair to drag him into all of this when he may have someone who is already by his side. Might as well maintain the distance before it’s too late and my heart breaks more than it has to.” Iwaizumi gave a watery smile, refusing to let tears fall as the chill of the air matched how he felt inside, cold and a little bit empty.

They sat there, side by side, on the bench next to so many memories from their childhood. The joy of their past is a stark contrast to the looming sadness of a future apart. Iwaizumi wrapped his arm around Oikawa’s shoulders, pulling the lithe body into his own and clutching tight. He ignored the subtle wiping of tears just as Oikawa ignored his own quiet sniffles and shuddered breaths. 

Eventually, it was too cold to stay out any longer and Iwaizumi’s heart ached, dreading any level of separation knowing how little time they had left together. “When are you leaving?” The words were whispered, the answer dreaded and unwanted like the rest of this afternoon of revelations. 

Oikawa, eyes still shining with unshed tears, quietly murmured, “Two days after graduation.” Iwaizumi felt like he had been punched in the chest, so much less time than he had anticipated having.

He cleared his throat, refusing to let emotion take over again and waste precious moments, “If you go back to ignoring me, I will hunt you down and kill you. Got it?” He stood, collecting the bag of groceries now half frozen from exposure and pulled his friend to his feet.

Oikawa straightened before stepping forward and wrapping strong arms around Iwaizumi, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Iwaizumi answered the embrace, pressing his nose into feathery brunette hair and breathing deeply, taking in Oikawa’s scent, fresh and airy. 

Dragging his lips to the ear already red with the bite of cold, he murmured, “And you better not disappear on me when you leave either. At the very least I’m taking you to the train.” He felt Oikawa’s nod into his shoulder, as well as the full body shiver, telling him it was time to wrap this up and seek out the warmth of the indoors.

He stepped back, breaking their embrace, and lifted a finger to gently wipe at the remaining moisture lingering on Oikawa’s cheeks. “Get home and warm up before you get sick. I’ll see you tomorrow.” His statement held no room for argument and Oikawa nodded, offering a small smile.

“Tomorrow then.”

~*~

The remaining weeks of February came and went faster than Iwaizumi wanted, time flying by with the dizzying speed of a bullet train. Graduation passed just as quickly and now it was the night before Oikawa’s departure, a looming storm gathering and preparing to strike no matter how hard he pretended this all wasn’t happening. 

Per their discussion, neither of them had reached out to Hinata, although the boy in question had messaged them a single time, the day of graduation. It had taken everything inside of him not to respond, to beg forgiveness and just  _ ask _ all of the things running through his mind. How was he doing? Were he and Kageyma together now? Was he having fun with volleyball? And on and on. Instead, he read the text over and over like a ritual, begging for a sign of what he should do, although none ever came. 

**Jumping Idiot:** _ Congratulations on graduating. Thanks for...whatever that was. Good luck. Take care. _

Setting his phone down, again, he glanced at the clock and noted the late hour. In exactly 13 hours, 43 minutes, and 27 seconds Oikawa would catch a train and leave the country for good. Although the setter regularly talked about how all of this might fall apart and he could fail, forcing him to return home, Iwaizumi knew better. Failure was not in Oikawa’s vocabulary and he was bound to dominate the Argentinian league the same as he had the Miyagi prefecture for the last three years. This was a forever thing, he could feel it as surely as he knew his own name. 

He had finished showering and preparing for bed, making sure several alarms were set so that there was no chance of him missing his final goodbye with Oikawa in the morning. As he pulled back the covers, preparing to climb in for what he knew would be a sleepless night, he stopped. This wasn’t enough. Instead of crawling under the sheets, he stepped back, moving to his dresser and pulling out joggers to pull over his sleep shorts.

He quietly moved down the stairs, unwilling to wake up any of his family members. He traded slippers for sneakers, hastily pulled on and untied, before grabbing a jacket and silently opening the front door and sneaking outside. From there he sprinted, mindful of his undone laces, several blocks to the side of Oikawa’s house. They were best friends and then lovers, so of course Iwaizumi knew all of the ways to sneak into the second story bedroom that Oikawa called his own. He just hoped the brunette boy… no man, now, was still awake. 

He easily found footholds he had used many times in the brick and latticing and quickly climbed. As he reached eye level with the window, he could see Oikawa curled up on his mattress, the rest of the space empty of the decorations that had been there as long as Iwaizumi could remember. He tapped on the window, praying that this wouldn’t be more complicated than opening the panel for him to slip inside.

He waited with bated breath, tapping a few times more, and let out a sigh of relief as the body in the bed sat up and glanced his way. Shock took over the sleepy expression as Oikawa realized Iwaizumi was there before he quickly stood and rushed over, unlatching the glass pane and pulling it open. Iwaizumi quietly pulled himself inside before straightening and taking off his shoes, manners still directing his movements despite the covert entry. 

“What are you doing here?” Oikawa hissed at him, careful to keep his voice quiet in the silence of the night. Iwaizumi stared, taking in the loose sleep shirt and boxer briefs that Oikawa favored sleeping in, his hair mussed and unstyled.

“I’m not ready.” Iwaizumi kept his voice low, mindful that he was not supposed to be here, “It’s not enough, just walking you to the train tomorrow. I’m not ready.” Oikawa’s expression softened, understanding and sadness emanating from him. 

“Yeah… I’m not ready either.” Oikawa stepped into his space, threading his arms under the jacket Iwaizumi had hastily pulled on in his dash out the door, embracing him in a tight hug. Iwaizumi returned the gesture, his own arms wrapping around the other man’s toned body and molding them together, eliminating any space between them. 

Iwaizumi dropped his forehead to the space between neck and shoulder that fit him perfectly, before quietly murmuring, “I know...we’re not like that anymore. But can I….can we… please?” He couldn’t pull the words together, hoping instead that Oikawa somehow understood him; understood what he was asking for. 

Oikawa huffed a laugh, his breath ruffling Iwaizumi’s hair and skating over the shell of his ear. “Yeah...Yeah, that sounds nice. I miss you, so much. It would be nice to have something to take with me tomorrow.” Oikawa leaned back, gaze meeting his own as he smiled.

Iwaizumi grinned, before threading his hands through soft feathery locks and pulling the other man’s mouth to his. He ached at the tiny hum that escaped Oikawa as he pressed forward, pushing their tangled bodies towards the bed across the room. Oikawa, never one to remain idle, hooked fingers under the edge of his jacket, guiding the material back until Iwaizumi had to drop his arms to let the material fall from his shoulders and pool on the floor. 

Then he was back, fingers tracing under the hem of Oikawa’s loose sleep shirt and dragging fingertips across heated flesh. He pressed their mouths back together, opening his own lips and demanding entry with his tongue which Oikawa gave willingly. Their breath was coming in heated pants, filling the space with gasps and hums and quiet moans.

Impatient, Iwaizumi tugged the material of the shirt upwards, baring toned abs and smooth skin to his gaze before pulling the article the rest of the way off and tossing it to the side. He could see the bulge underneath the dark material of the other man’s underwear and quickly tugged his own shirt off, eager to press their bodies together with nothing between them. 

Oikawa, not to be outdone, stepped forward and dropped to his knees, grinning at him with a smile full of mischief. Long fingers dug under the material at his hips and pulled down, removing his shorts, joggers, and socks all in one go. His cock sprang free, already hard and aching for the man kneeling at his feet. 

“Commando, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa smiled, all teeth, “I like it.” And then it was Iwaizumi’s turn to muffle his moans as a long lick trailed up the length of him, hot and wet and amazing. 

He looked down, pushing his fingers through Oikawa’s hair and grabbing handfuls but restraining himself from applying any further pressure. Oikawa rained kisses along the underside of him, pausing to lick delicately as his balls before moving his mouth back to the tip, twirling his tongue around him like a fucking popsicle. He was teasing, and Iwaizumi loved every single second of it, but if he didn’t get more and soon he was going to go crazy. 

“Tooru, please.” He was breathless, his words nothing more than a gasp into the air. Without another word, scorching heat engulfed him, Oikawa’s lips wrapped around him tightly as the brunette took as much as he could fit into his mouth. Iwaizumi moaned, feeling the tip of himself bump in the back of the other man’s throat and then nearly choked on his own tongue when he felt the pulsing contractions of a throat swallowing around him. “Fuck. Tooru, you’re killing me. Fuck!”

Oikawa hummed, the vibration racing up his cock and into his spine, forcing him to grit his teeth together to hold back a moan he was sure would wake  _ someone _ up. And then the slick warmth surrounding him was moving, his length stroking in and out as one of Oikawa’s hands came to wrap around the rest of him, caressing in time with the bob of Oikawa’s head.

The pace remained slow, the rhythm mind blowing between pauses for breath and unexpected moments when Oikawa would take him as deep as possible, driving him insane. Slowly, the other man pushed for more, increasing the motions and suckling him harder, stroking faster. 

Finally, Iwaizumi could take no more teasing, Oikawa purposefully changing up the movement to keep him on the edge. His grip tightened in Oikawa’s hair, pulling a moan from the other man, as he pressed himself deeper, taking over the motion and controlling the pace, pausing occasionally so the other man could gasp for breath before resuming the eager motion. 

At one such pause, Oikawa begged, “Come, Haji, please. I want it.” And then Oikawa was on him again, sucking harder, tongue writhing around him before taking him deep and swallowing. 

Iwaizumi’s eyes squeezed shut as his fingers tightened in thick hair and liquid fire raced from the base of his spine as he flooded Oikawa’s mouth with his cum. “Fuck. Fuck. So good, Tooru. Ah, fuck!” He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, his brain melting as Oikawa held him inside his mouth through the rest of his release before pulling back, swallowing, and cheekily showing his clean tongue with a wink.

A shiver raced through him as he realized Oikawa remembered how much he loved watching his lover take his cum, knowing that he was inside of him, deep and lingering. “Good boy.” He watched the shudder move through Oikawa’s frame and he dropped his thumb to pull at his lover’s bottom lip, taking in how swollen and wet it was. 

“On the bed.” Iwaizumi commanded, knowing that in brief moments, like this one, Oikawa enjoyed a more direct partner. He followed the order without hesitation, dropping on top of already rumpled sheets and waiting. 

Iwaizumi stepped forward, pushing at a muscular shoulder until the other man lay prone, before dragging his fingers under the band of boxers, the last standing article of clothing between them. He teased, circling and pressing against heated skin, pausing occasionally to drop lower and graze across the tip of Oikawa’s cock, already damp with pre-cum. 

Oikawa whimpered, “Please, Haji.  _ Please. _ ” 

Iwaizumi smiled, not changing his motions, fingertips continuing their casual movements. “Unlike you, Tooru, I am not impatient. I am going to take my time. And you’re going to like it.” He leaned forward, bracing his knees on either side of Oikawa’s hips, his elbows moving to support him on either side of his lover’s head, pressing into the mattress. 

He grazed a quick kiss over still damp and swollen lips before trailing along a strong jaw, pausing to nibble at his ear. He continued, dropping kisses and nips along his throat, drawing forth gasps and hums, before biting his way across Oikawa’s collarbone and to the other side of his body. 

“I want to taste every inch of you.” He dragged his tongue across heated flesh, bit down on muscled skin, and rained kisses at random, covering the other man’s torso with marks that he made sure would linger well into the next day, maybe longer. A reminder to him that this had happened long after the encounter concluded.

Oikawa was writhing now, gasping out tiny pleas and ragged moans, his fingers tangled tightly in the sheets under him. Finally, impatient to set eyes on the rest of him, Iwaizumi dragged the material of his boxers down and over his bare feet, revealing toned hips and a straining cock to his gaze. He stood, eyes drinking in every dip and crevice he could see.

He licked his lips, “You know, you’re so beautiful Tooru.” He observed the slight shudder overtake the other man. He loved this part, knowing that praise was enough to drive Oikawa out of his mind. And he enjoyed giving it, feeling a rush at knowing that his kind, and truthful, words had that level of effect on his lover. “Fuck, I could look at you forever. You’re so perfect.” 

“Haji,  _ please! _ ” Oikawa was shaking now, a consistent tremble begging for release. Smiling, he finally took pity on the other man, unwilling to wait any longer.

“Do you still like...finger stuff?” Iwaizumi paused, uncertain for just a moment and worried he would ruin the mood. This was a fine line that they had tried to overcome several times before and had failed, so he was unsure where the boundary was now.

“Fuck, yes.” Oikawa breathed, “Lube, top left.” Iwaizumi retrieved the mostly empty bottle, relieved that it would be enough for what they were looking to do, already aware that neither of them was interested in receiving penetrative sex. He just needed enough to slick his fingers and to maybe get himself off as he was already hard as a rock...again.

He dropped the bottle to the side of Oikawa’s hips before taking his own knees on the floor at the edge of the mattress, the height perfect for what he had in mind. He gently traced his fingers along the weeping length in front of him, grinning at the desperate sounds spilling from his lover’s mouth. He sat up slightly and dragged his tongue quickly from base to tip, pressing against the delicate veins and hard steel under soft skin. Oikawa’s choked groans turned him on even more, the satisfaction at drawing out such sounds invigorating.

“Look at you, already such a mess for me. So beautiful, so perfect.” He dropped his head, taking the majority of the rigid flesh into his mouth and sucking hard. Oikawa’s back bowed with pleasure as the salty slick of pre-cum slid across his tongue. He pulled back, dragging his tongue along every vein and dip before repeating the motion. When he was sure that Oikawa was entirely focused on his cock, blissed out and barely restrained moans spilling from his lips, he grabbed the bottle he had set aside earlier.

He quietly uncapped the container, dropping a large dollop on his fingers before closing it with a quiet ‘snick’. Rubbing his fingers together, making sure the largest three were thoroughly coated, he dropped his mouth over Oikawa again, taking him deep, as far as he could go. At the same time, he gently moved his fingers, slick with lube, lower and started teasing the pulsing flesh he found there. Gently circling the opening with his fingertips, he pressed with his forefinger to tease, the tip just barely dipping inside. Oikawa’s hips rocked, chasing the pressure as he moved away.

He repeated the motion, mouth still sucking and licking at hardened flesh, pushing inside just a little farther each time until his finger was inside fully. Oikawa’s shattered moan pierced the air and Iwaizumi pulled back to shush him, not eager for anyone to seek out the noises and they were found out. Oikawa lifted a fist to his mouth, biting into his knuckles to stifle the noises dripping from his lips like honey. 

Iwaizumi went back to his task, pressing his finger deep and pulling back over and over before slowly adding the second finger, listening for any sounds of discomfort or pain. Finally, with two fingers inside, he rotated his wrist, fingers searching for… there.

Oikawa’s back bowed sharply, fist muffling the scream that surely would have woken the entire neighborhood otherwise, and Iwaizumi grinned. He pulled back, watching Oikawa’s dick stream with precum as hips writhed on his fingers, fingers that were relentlessly pressing against the bundle of nerves deep inside him.

“Haji - oh god. So good.” Oikawa panted, face flushed and eyes squeezed shut, “Too, shit, t-too good. Too much. Fuck, I can’t.  _ Please.”  _ The smirk remained firmly on Iwaizumi’s face as he kept pressing, despite Oikawa’s broken protests. This was another one of those things that he loved about his lover, while he may protest, he wanted it. He loved the feeling of too much pleasure, being overwhelmed and wrecked. So despite desperate pleas to back off, Iwaizumi maintained the pressure and the stroking, though he did let off Oikawa’s cock for the time being, intending to draw out the moment just a little longer.

Oikawa’s moans were turning desperate and Iwaizumi’s smile turned vicious, “So, so beautiful, Tooru. You take my fingers so well. Look at you, making a mess. You’re doing so good, so perfect.” Knowing that he wouldn’t last much longer, he pressed his fingers deep and hard against the bundle of nerves and dropped his mouth over Oikawa’s cock just in time for his salty release to spill across his tongue and down his throat. Unwilling to waste even a single drop, he swallowed and licked and waited for the harsh movements of Oikawa’s hips to settle before pulling away, slowly removing his fingers from softly abused flesh and sitting back.

Oikawa was panting raggedly, drained and tired, a vicious bite mark across the fleshy part of his thumb where he had used the appendage to stifle his noise. Iwaizumi smiled, content and happy,  _ perfect. _

He helped shuffle the other man’s legs fully onto the bed, gently cleaning up leftover lube with a wash rag he grabbed from the bathroom across the hall. He gently crawled in beside Oikawa, wrapping his arms around the other’s body and pulling his head into his chest. 

Oikawa hummed in contentment before lazily trailing his hands down Iwaizumi’s chest, “Give me a little bit and I’ll help you with that.” Fingertips grazed teasingly over the tip of his still hard cock. 

He shrugged sleepily, “I don’t care. I just want to hold you for awhile.” He stroked his hands along soft skin and gently pressed tired kisses into Oikawa’s damp brow. “Do you have alarms set?” He felt the nod into his shoulder, “M’kay. I’ll sneak out in the morning and then come meet you for the train.” 

“Sounds good.” Was the last breath he heard, but he was certain that Oikawa was already fast asleep.

The next day came and went in a blur of tears and hugs and unspoken yearning. Iwaizumi almost had to be pried away from his friend, his love. Watching Oikawa board the train, small carryon luggage in tow, the rest of his things having been shipped separately, was by far one of the hardest things he had ever had to do. Afterwards, he had returned home, crawled into bed and let emotion choke him, praying that when he woke up all of this was just a dream. 

It wasn’t.


	8. Of Wishes and Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One foot in front of the other. Boys are confusing. Gotta make big moves for big results.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of things...
> 
> I read "In Another Life" today.... I am not okay.  
> More manga spoilers, we're also starting to bend the manga a little bit to fit my story. So some stuff might not be entirely canon from here on out.
> 
> Also sorry I'm a little late posting this week, needed to take advantage of some nice weather while it's still here.
> 
> As always, no beta, just me. Sorry for any and all mistakes, but I did my best.  
> Enjoy!

The deep thud of the volleyball bouncing off the side of his house rang through the crisp evening air. The sound reverberating through the space followed by Natsu’s muffled annoyed squeal at the interruption to her TV time, the frustration in her words a direct mirror to the tumultuous coil of feeling coursing through him. If there was a single emotion that Hinata Shouyou was intimately familiar with, it was frustration. 

Frustration with being underestimated. 

Frustration with being ignored. 

Frustration with being written off.

Frustration with his own shortcomings.

Frustration with not understanding…

Frustration with being left behind.

He caught the ball as it bounced back at him, sweat trickling down the sides of his face under the jacket and heavy scarf he hadn’t bothered to remove when he returned home. He lifted the ball, ready to toss it into the air and throw another spike full of pent up anger at the innocent siding. Before he could unleash his wrath, again, his mother opened the back door and huffed a sigh at him in that way that only moms can manage.

She rested her hip against the frame with her arms crossed, warm light from the kitchen spilling out around her and illuminating the yard. “You don’t need to tell me what’s bothering you, but can you please stop beating up the house?” The backlight made it difficult to make out her features, but he could hear the warmth in her tone letting him know she wasn’t really angry with him. 

“Sorry, mom.” He brought the ball back to his chest and flexed his fingers into the stitching, wishing he could share his mind and just get it  _ out.  _ But like all awkward teenagers, he wasn’t sure this was a tale he wished to share with his parent, no matter how understanding his mother may be. “Just one more and then I’ll come inside.” 

He saw her shift, a sign that she was worrying, although she always worried, “You can talk to me, sweet boy. You know that right?” He swallowed and nodded his head, unwilling to share more but his heart still warming, the love and affection from his mom breaking through the cold and the anger. “Alright, one more. And then come inside, it’s too cold for you to be out here. You’ll get sick.” She kicked off the frame and stepped back into the warmth of the kitchen, the small radiating heat cut off as the door clicked closed behind her. 

He moved the ball back out in front of him, staring hard at the criss-crossed lines of color and gritting his teeth. He allowed his mind to wander, embracing the multitude of moments the last few weeks that filled him to the brim with frustration, a turbulent storm bubbling under his skin.

Getting sick during the game against Kamomedai High and having to leave the match, letting his teammates down.

Oikawa being … weird and backing out every time they tried to make good on their pre-nationals promise.

His failed attempts and rejuvenating his connection with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, not understanding why they weren’t responding to him anymore.

Kageyama kissing him and then ignoring him, even after he tried to confront the other boy about it.

Having to prove himself over and over to everyone around him just because he’s different.

Countless other snippets and images flashed through his mind, inflaming his annoyance and lighting his blood on fire. With a yell that would most likely have the neighbors calling the house in a panic and tears of anger pricking at the corners of his eyes, he tossed the ball into the air and slammed all of his pent up emotion into the inflated material, striking the side of the house and rattling the shutters. He heard another squeal from Natsu in the house followed by his mother shushing her as he panted, releasing the tension that seemed to try to overtake him at every turn. 

Watching the ball steadily roll to a stop, he huffed one final time before stepping quietly towards the door and the warmth of his family. He didn’t have a plan yet, but he would make one. He would continue to improve and chase his dream. He would figure out what the hell was going on with Kageyama. And he would let go of Oikawa and Iwaizumi and move forward. He would. 

Until then, he would make the most of his time with his team and the seniors that were graduating in just a few short weeks. And he would try to start figuring out what came next in case coaches and trainers continued to overlook him as a formidable player. 

_ One step at a time, Shouyou. _

~*~

For once, inspiration came from the most likely of places. Sugawara had always been adept at reading him, better than most of their teammates with maybe the exception of Kageyama. So it was no surprise that the nugget of wisdom and guidance should come from the bleeding heart that was the upperclassman. 

They had just finished practice, the third years not participating but still hanging around occasionally as they waited for graduation to finally arrive. Hinata had followed Coach Ukai’s direction, running drills with the team as usual, but bowing out of the extra practice that he and Kageyama usually insisted upon. He assumed the unusual behavior was enough to catch the lighter haired man’s attention and was what drove him to pull Hinata aside. 

“You seem off today, Shouyou-kun.” Suga offered a gentle smile as they walked together towards the club room, mostly for the sake of Hinata being able to change before his journey home. “Anything I can help with?”

Hinata chewed his lip, pondering the question and wondering if he should trouble Suga with his inner turmoils. To most, his issues were probably small and insignificant. But to him, sometimes they felt overwhelming and impossible to overcome. Deciding that if the third year didn’t care to know, he wouldn’t have asked in the first place, he blurted, “How do you improve when you don’t know what questions to ask or what to work on?” 

“Huh?” Suga blinked at him, clearly confused. “Try that again? Maybe an example would help.” 

“I mean,” Hinata mulled over his words, choosing them carefully, “Sometimes it feels like I see where I want to go, but I have no idea how to get there. It’s like math, I guess. I see the answer. I see the problem. But I don’t know how to get from A to B, and most times I don’t even know what questions to ask to figure out how to get started.” 

They paused at the base of the steps leading up to the club room, slightly off to the side and isolated from any ears that may seek to eavesdrop. “I guess I see what you’re kind of asking.” Suga muttered to himself, “Is this about school or something else?” 

Hinata huffed a sigh, “Suga-chan. You, of all people, should know this is about Volleyball.” He shot a grin at the upperclassman to show he was only teasing, before his face fell back into a mask of seriousness. “I see where I am now. I see my dream of playing volleyball for the rest of my life. But I don’t know how to get there, and I don’t know where to start because we both know that it’s not possible as,” he gestured to himself, “I am.”

Suga hummed at his statement, his face just as intent and focused as Hinata’s. “I think that depends. You have-”

Hinata cut him off, eagerness overtaking manners for a moment, “Depends on what? What do I have to do?” He flushed at the reprimanding stare Suga shot his way, “Sorry.”

Suga’s expression relaxed back into his normal friendly disposition, “You have to decide what kind of player you want to be.” He paused, his finger tapping against his lip as he stared skyward as if searching for words. “There are typically two kinds of players that make it professionally. The first kind can do something that no one else, or very few people, can.” He ticked off the numbers on his fingers as he spoke, “The second kind can do everything well and then they have something that makes them  _ extra.” _

“Extra?” He tilted his head, absorbing the words from his friend and classmate, digesting them and swirling them around. 

“Yeah,” Suga nodded his head encouragingly, “Something to remember though, the more competitive you get, the less likely that you’ll be able to succeed as the first kind of player. There are only so many spots open for specialties.”

“That means for my best chance, I need to be the second kind of player.” Hinata’s brow furrowed, working through what all of this meant. 

“Right,” Suga’s smile was warm, not an ounce of sarcasm or condescension to be seen. A fact that Hinata immensely appreciated, knowing that this type of conversation wouldn’t be possible with most, if any, of his other teammates. “So the question then becomes, how are you going to become that player that can do anything? Remember, volleyball itself is rather specialized just by the fact that players are sorted into positions with different responsibilities and designations.”

“So I’ll have to figure out how to do all of the positions. But I might not get that through just practicing.” He looked up at Suga, meeting kind eyes and a gentle smile. 

“I think that’s what you need to figure out. How to do that.” Suga grinned, “Seems like a good question for a coach, don’t you think?” With a wink, Suga turned, waving goodbye at him as he strolled into the dwindling sunlight, leaving Hinata to gape as the swirl of ambition started to bubble in his chest.

“SUGA-CHAN! You’re the BEST!” Hinata shouted across the courtyard, grateful to have a place to start and for the patience of upperclassmen.

~*~ 

The following day, Hinata arrived to practice early with all the enthusiasm of a toddler after too much chocolate. He burst through the doors of the gym, quickly switching his shoes in favor of his volleyball sneakers, before zeroing in on his target and approaching swiftly. He probably should calm down, if the half second of fear that passed across Coach Ukai’s face was any indication. But he had been waiting the whole day for this moment, eager to start planning and preparing for the next steps, he couldn’t wait even a single minute longer.

“Ukai-sensei!” He panted slightly, out of breath from his continued sprinting ever since classes let out for the day. “How do I become good at everything in Volleyball?!”

The blonde haired man looked startled for just a moment before his eyes sharpened with a gleam and a vicious grin cut across his face. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cell phone and quickly began typing, “Let me show you something…” After a few more taps, Coach Ukai turned the screen.

There, on the small rectangular device, played a video of a type of volleyball he hadn’t seen before. The court was small and, instead of wood, was outside in the sand, the edges marked by thin strips of what looked like white tape. There were four players in total, two on each side of the net.

His eyes widened as he watched the first serve, the ball sailing over the net and received by the other team. The ball came back over after a quick set and counter, the player who had saved the serve recovered and delivered a hard spike that was somehow returned by the serving team. The play continued until the serving team scored the point with a quick spike that was too far for the other team to reach. He looked up at Coach Ukai and the older man nodded for him to keep watching. 

His gaze drank in every movement as the serving team reset, delivering another hard ball across the court. But this time, the player who had set first in the last round received and his partner delivered an equally impressive set back to him. Instead of a lingering rally, this play ended quickly with the receiving team slamming down a harsh spike and scoring the point. At the end of the play, Coach Ukai paused the video.

“What is this?” Hinata asked, voice full of awe at the unique version of the sport he so dearly loved. 

“This is beach volleyball.” He pulled his phone away before tucking it back into his pocket, looking down at Hinata with a hint of challenge sparking in his eye. “In beach, both players on your team have to be able to do everything, because there is no one else to save you if you mess up.” He paused for several moments, letting Hinata absorb the information given to him. “If you want to be good at everything, master beach volleyball.” 

Hinata grinned, the determination and ferocious ambition that had been missing the last few weeks returning with a vengeance. The familiar fire filled him, comforting and fierce. “How do I get started?” 

Coach Ukai’s smirk rivaled his own, “I have some people I can talk to. You sure about this?” At Hinata’s exuberant nod, he laughed, “Alright, kid. Get ready.” 

Finally,  _ finally _ , a plan.

~*~

“Stop avoiding me.” The words washed over him, cold and monotone. His head jerked up from where he had been stuffing his clothing into his bag to head home after another day of practice. Kageyama stood over him and, to others, appeared stoic and calm. Hinata; however, could see the anger radiating from sapphire eyes, sending a shiver up his spine. 

He turned back to his duffle, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He kept his tone even, not really in the mood to start a fight after the difficult practice that Coach Ukai had put them through that afternoon. His legs ached, his hands were sore, and all he wanted was to go home and sleep. 

“Liar.” Kageyama almost spat the word at him, “We haven’t practiced late for  _ weeks _ , all because you keep bailing on me.” The raven haired boy took a step towards him as Hinata became keenly aware that they were alone in the club room, the other players having departed for the night already.

Hinata stood, unwilling to make himself appear to be an easy target, “You  _ know _ why.” He clenched his fists, jaw tight with tension.

“The third years are graduating in two days.” Kageyama took a deep breath as if to settle himself, “Then after that the new first years are going to show up. We have to be on the same page. And how are we going to get better if we don’t  _ practice. _ ”

Hinata’s mouth opened and closed, searching for words to express how very  _ stupid _ the other boy was. “ _ YOU,”  _ Hinata pressed his finger against Kageyama’s chest, looking up at the taller boy with all the frustration and annoyance he could muster, “Kissed  _ me. _ And then  _ you _ didn’t want to talk about it!”

“What is there to talk about?!” Kageyama shouted the words into the small space. “We have shit to do and it was becoming a distraction! Do you want to win Nationals next year, or not?!”

“Then  _ distract _ yourself elsewhere, baka!” Hinata dropped his hand, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. What the fuck was  _ happening _ right now? 

He watched as Kageyama took slow steps towards him, his whiskey-honey eyes glaring daggers at the taller boy, “ _ You _ are the only thing that is distracting. So I did, and will continue to do, whatever it takes to get rid of it so it doesn’t fester and ruin everything.” The words were pitched low, serious, as the raven haired boy encroached in his space. “So just let it be what it is. No more, no less.” 

Hinata’s back pressed against the cool row of lockers behind him, cutting off his retreat, “What the fuck does that mean?” He was nervous, a pinch of tension piercing his stomach. This was new territory for him and this current Kageyama was unpredictable in a way that Hinata hadn’t seen before.

“It means that I will do whatever it takes to get you out of my head, dumbass.” Kageyama had barely finished speaking before his hand threaded through Hinata’s hair, tugging the smaller boy forward as he ducked and smashed their lips together. Hinata froze, uncertain what to do as chapped lips pressed against his own, unyielding and harsh. They stayed that way for barely a moment before Kageyama stepped back, “Now stop avoiding me. Tomorrow we’re practicing.”

And then the setter stormed out of the club room like his ass was on fire.

_ What the hell?  _ Hinata pulled his fingers to his mouth, slightly bruised from the force of Kageyama’s kiss. That was the second time that Kageyama had kissed him and he felt no closer to having answers than he did before.  _ What the actual fuck is going on here? _

~*~

The next two days passed with all the subtlety of a freight train. He had given in and started practicing late with Kageyama again, if for no other reason than to avoid another strange and unpredictable confrontation. And now today, the final day of his first year of high school, would culminate in the graduation of their third year teammates. The gaping hole of their absence was already an ache that Hinata felt in his chest. While he was looking forward to new teammates with the arrival of the first years in the coming weeks, he knew that there would never be a team quite like this one. And for that he mourned the loss deeply.

He had also been keeping in contact with the many friends and rivals he had picked up through the year, the flurry of messages picking up as the possibilities of the coming season weighed heavily on everyone. Their conversations were mostly filled with smack talk and questions about plans for camps and training. Out of one such conversation with Kindaichi, the Aoba Johsai player had let slip how bummed they were that their own third years were leaving, bemoaning the loss of strong players like Oikawa and Iwaizumi. 

He tried not to be sick all over the flower bed just outside of the school doors. 

He had pushed the duo from his mind as best as he could after resolving to move forward and stop dwelling on things that he had no power to change. He had been moderately successful, only occasionally slipping into memories and what-if’s in the dead of night when he was alone and the air was quiet. Most times it was like it had never even happened at all, something that made him eternally grateful that his teammates knew nothing of the situation with the exception of Suga. 

But now that the thoughts had entered through the mere mention of their names, they steamrolled their way across everything else, taking over with no regard to his personal desire to leave the whole thing in the past. If Karasuno’s third years were graduating today, that meant that Seijoh would also hold graduation around this time. What were they planning to do after high school? Were they staying nearby or moving away? Were they going to University or something else? 

Were they okay? 

Were they happy now? 

Unable to help himself, he pulled out his phone and called up the long dead message thread between himself and the former Seijoh players. Staring at the words, not really seeing them as his throat choked with the heaviness of unfulfilled possibility, his fingers moved as if with a mind of their own, typing out a final message and putting closure on something that was so incredibly open ended.

**Hinata:** _ Congratulations on graduating. Thanks for...whatever that was. Good luck. Take care. _

He stared at the message, not expecting a reply but hoping for one all the same. After a few more long seconds, he locked the screen and pocketed the device. He sniffled, blinking back tears that he refused to let fall and made his way into the school building, allowing the door to slam behind him. 

~*~

Time is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s slow and underwhelming. Sometimes it comes charging in with all the finesse of a wrecking ball. That’s what life felt like most days, the droll passing of hours interspersed with excited chaos that left him reeling and scrambling to collect the pieces back into order. 

The weeks after the third years departed were filled with planning, new introductions, and the collective tension that could only be achieved by a room full of competitive athletes with high aspirations. Then it never really seemed to abate after that, the remaining years of his high school career rushing by in colorful images and memories. They had won...and they had lost. The title of National Champions eluded them even in Hinata’s third year, although the 3rd place victory still filled him with pride.

His relationship with Kageyama had returned to mostly normal, interspersed with occasional heated encounters that they never spoke of after the fact, much to his dismay. They were friends, partners, on and off the court. Throughout it all there was a small place in his heart where he wished for more from the raven haired setter even when he knew ‘more’ was never something Kageyama was willing to give. Kageyama had goals to achieve, something that was made abundantly clear to Hinata on one of the occasions that he dared question the arrangement, and nothing would stand in the other’s way, personal entanglements included.

A few times he had set his eyes elsewhere, craving the companionship of someone who would see his value with or without volleyball. Those relationships never really got started, most fizzling out when the reality of his dedication to the sport he loved became a glaring obstacle to time spent together. If that didn’t kill it, Kageyama did, the other boy strangely possessive of him and his time in the face of any threat that could turn his attention away. The sum of it all made for a long, confusing, two years of his life.

Most of the time, his relationships with his friends pulled him through, providing the sense of connection he so desperately sought. Any time that wasn’t enough, he would set his sights higher, make his goals grander and then chase them with a sole focus that would push everything else out until he was too tired to worry about such things.

One such goal was finally realized just as he had become desperate. All of the connections that Ukai-sensei had sought in order to introduce Hinata to beach volleyball had fallen through, most unwilling or uninterested in introducing an unknown into their teams and risking failure. Rescue had come from the most unlikely of places.

Washijo-sensei’s belief in him still left him reeling at times, the coach for Shiratorizawa having offered him the opportunity to go to Brazil to train and learn under a former player who had also made the switch. The switch to beach volleyball was huge. Moving to Brazil was an even more daunting prospect, but one he was excited for nonetheless. Even still, the thought that everything could fall through at the last moment had prevented him from sharing his plans with the rest of his friends. 

The idea that he could suddenly be disregarded and found wanting was a deep rooted fear he carried with him. The only thing worse would be to return to his friends empty handed and embarrassed. So he had kept it to himself until the reality of this next step was upon him. 

Although now, there wasn’t very much to say. Everyone that he had graduated with had moved on to other things, Kageyama to professional volleyball and most of the others to University. As with most things, he had felt left behind for a while in the time between graduation and the start of his adventure to Brazil. But his lack of attending University was dismissed quickly as he wasn’t very studious in nature and had no desire to attend  _ more _ school. The piece that had originally hurt the most was Kageyama moving forward, getting ahead of him, and leaving him behind without a single backward glance. 

They’re final parting after graduation had been anticlimactic, the lack of any emotional words deflating any lingering hope that they could be, or even were, anything more than just friends and teammates. Kageyama had merely spiked a ball at him, which he had received as if by second nature at this point, before walking away with a wave and a ‘see you next time.’ The notable absence of anything else binding or heartfelt finally seemed to douse the torch that had unbelievably remained aflame inside of him. It was with a sense of relief that that piece of his heart ultimately clicked itself shut and closed that chapter of his story, a sense of peace intermingled with sadness lingering in its wake.

Over the following months, he had accepted that he was not in fact stationary, merely preparing for the next phase of his life. Preparations which had proven to be far more time consuming than he had anticipated. Convincing his mother that this was the right decision had become an almost daily conversation, each time concluding with a sigh and pat to his head followed by reluctant acceptance. When he wasn’t doing that, he was taking every odd job that he could to squirrel away any amount of savings. No employer wanted to hire someone that knew they would be departing in the near future, so he was left with the odds and ends, leaving him far more busy than he could have imagined.

Finally, almost a full year after graduating, it was time to make his own move. 

He had let slip to Yachi that he was leaving, the confession unplanned but a relief all the same. Afterward he had wondered what he should do to break the news to anyone else, and who he should tell in general, not certain that everyone would really care. He needn’t have worried about that.

Within the day, thanks to Yachi’s meticulous record of everyone’s contact information and the inability to keep  _ anything _ secret, everyone knew. Messages and calls were flooding in from numbers that he thought had long forgotten about him, or at the very least were too preoccupied with their own lives to be concerned with his. The congratulatory and excited conversations made him smile and his heart warm with the knowledge that he still mattered to quite a few people, although any input from his former Karasuno setter was notably absent. 

So now, here he was, two hours ahead of his train, at a cafe nearby the station purely at Yachi’s insistence. She had pestered and cajoled him until he had given in, most under the guilt that she had already purchased a ticket to head home from University for the day just to have the chance to see him off. He pushed open the glass door, noting that the cafe was rather empty, and tugged his carry on inside. His eyes scanned the space before settling on a head of bright blonde hair, slightly longer than it was in their first year of school, and made his way over.

Light brown eyes glanced up at him, a wide smile across her face, warm and welcoming, “Hina-chan! So good to see you!” She jumped up from her seat, embracing him in a quick hug. Long past his awkwardness around the girl turned woman, he returned the squeeze with a light chuckle.

“Good to see you as well, Yacchan.” He stepped back, placed his bag against the wall and turned towards the counter. “Have you been waiting long? What would you like? I’ll go order now.” 

He paused at her light giggle, “Sit down. I already ordered for everyone.” She gestured to the seat in front of him as she looked up and over his shoulder, “Speaking of everyone…”

“Huh?” He turned to the door he had just come through as his jaw dropped in surprise. A group of people were making their way through the entrance, each face recognizable and sorely missed.

Before he could take in all of the faces, he was swarmed by Tanaka and Nishinoya in a hug that almost took him to the ground before they stabilized. Rushed shouts of excitement swam around him as he greeted them, returning the enthusiasm as best as he could with his arms pinned to his sides. 

Finally they released him in favor of harassing Yachi and a more sedate Suga and Diachi made their way over. They quickly exchanged exuberant greetings, the last he had seen of either being when they had won 3rd place at nationals. Asahi, as expected, hung back but joined in their enthusiastic conversation, catching up on how University was going and what their plans were for after graduation. 

Kiyoko stepped in quickly, patting his shoulder with a calm  _ ‘hello’ _ before moving off to settle Nishinoya and Tanaka. Both were receiving incredibly dirty looks from the cafe staff and already seemed to be on the verge of getting kicked out. 

Yachi waved everyone over to sit, Hinata now noticing several tables placed together with only a few extra seats, “Are you surprised?”

Hinata grinned and sniffled, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as he basked in the happiness of the moment, “Of course! How did you...when did you… Just...what?” 

She beamed at him, looking around the table quickly, her face falling for a brief moment before brightening. “I have another surprise for you.” She pulled out a tablet, pressing a few buttons before propping it up on the table in front of him. 

After just a few seconds, the video call connected and the screen lit up with even more familiar and dearly missed faces. He sat in stunned silence as several greetings washed over him, reinvigorating the moisture that insisted upon gathering in his eyes. Peering back at him was Lev, Kindaichi, Koganegawa, Yamaguchi and off the screen slightly was the outline of Tsukki. 

Yamaguchi, the seeming leader of the video call, explained, “We couldn’t make it all the way to Miyagi, but we couldn’t let you go without saying goodbye properly. So we all gathered in Tsukki and I’s dorm room with whoever was nearby.” The brown haired boy flushed as he grinned, “But Brazil? Really, Shoyou-kun?”

“He’s always been extra, why should it be any different now?” The muffled words came from slightly off screen, Tsukki he imagined, as the rest of the faces staring back at him were clearly not speaking. 

Yamaguchi turned and whispered, although the words still came through the line, “I told you you didn’t have to come if you didn’t want to, but you insisted. Either get in the frame or go to your own room.” 

With a muttered, “I just wanted to see what he looked like before he fails,” the blonde haired man moved further into the frame revealing most of his face instead of just the outline. Hinata laughed, so very happy that his friends had remained mostly unchanged in their time apart.

After that, the video call was a chaotic mess. Each person trying to talk over one another, asking him questions about Brazil and why he was going, when was he coming back, and so on. He wouldn’t have had it any other way.

After a few more questions about what his friends were doing, how school was going, and whether they were still playing Volleyball, he noticed that more than half of the hour had passed and decided to focus on those who were patiently waiting on him across the table. Saying their goodbyes, the damn pesky tears making another appearance, he disconnected the call and hugged Yachi tightly as thanks. He never imagined that they would all care so much, let alone make the effort to give him a proper goodbye before he set off. 

The rest of the time passed quickly, Tanaka and Nishinoya both pestering him about how hot Brazilian girls would be before getting smacked by Kiyoko. Daichi, Suga, and Asahi were asking about where he would live and what he was bringing with him, looking after him even after all of these years gone by. He basked in every single moment, cherishing it and filing the memories away for when he was in a distant country by himself and on his own.

At one point he had looked at Yachi, wanting to ask if Kageyama was coming before thinking better of it. Evidently, he hadn’t been discrete enough as she had gently shook her head at him before mouthing ‘he’s not coming.’ Disappointment zipped through him. He no longer expected any declarations of love from the other man, but at the very least they had been friends and Kageyama’s notable absence hurt. He shook it off quickly, unwilling to taint the rest of this day with harsh feelings about someone who couldn’t even bother to show up.

It was finally time for him to gather his things and make his way to the station. He profusely thanked the cafe staff for their patience and service before making the rounds amongst his former teammates and friends. Each hug lingered, every embrace harder to let go than the last as his time of departure neared. 

Finally, he stepped back from his final hug with Yachi as his attention was sharply dragged to the entrance. “Hey, hey! Sorry! We’re so late!” Bokuto stumbled through the door after a sharp push from Kuroo at his back. Kenma and Akaashi calmly followed, all four of them slightly out of breath as they made their way over. 

Kuroo muttered, “Blame owl-boy. He slept in and we ended up missing the first train.”

This time, Hinata couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, emotion overflowing and moisture tracking down his cheeks. As Tanaka and Nishinoya shouted  _ ‘Hey! Why did you cry for them and not us?! We’re your senpai’s!’  _ Hinata stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around Kenma with a startled ‘ _ oomph!’ _

Akaashi ruffled a hand through his hair before stepping back just in time for Kuroo and Bokuto to wrap the both of them in a tight embrace, slightly lifting the short duo off the ground and squeezing. Hinata laughed as Kenma whined. Kuroo teased and Bokuto chanted random excited phrases into the air. It was perfect. 

With very little time left, he absorbed every moment of excited chatter, sarcastic teasing, and good natured harassment that he could. He laughed, continued to cry, and finally extricated himself from the fray. With a final round of hugs, he was out the door, heart and mind light with the love of his friends seeing him off.

Still sniffling, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he boarded the train with a wash of new memories to get him by. When he came back, he would be different. His friends would be different. But they would always have this. 

He rested his head against the seat, settling in for the long journey ahead, certain he was ready for whatever came next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, we're heading into the real fun stuff now! :D   
> I can't promise no more angst but I can promise some angst...resolution? 
> 
> Anyways! Thanks for the read!


	9. In Another World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting anew is beautiful and difficult, a lesson Hinata is learning the hard way. It's also time for a long talk with an unexpected face from the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late this week! I'm sorry! 
> 
> More manga spoilers - don't hate me.
> 
> As always, no Beta. Just me and my mistakes. Maybe a few more this time since I was trying to get this posted without waiting another day. Apologies in advance. 
> 
> Thank you for the read!

Hinata both loved and hated this part of trying new things. He was used to it, waiting for the pieces to come together while he struggled through and prayed to not fail. Only now, if he failed he will have wasted years of time and energy from not only himself, but Coach Ukai and Coach Washijo as well. _No pressure._

Brazil was beautiful and had everything he could have hoped for in his volleyball aspirations. He would never regret his choice to forego university and head overseas, but learning the new style of beach wasn’t easy. Everything was completely unlike the game he had adored during high school. The sand, the wind, the court itself were all so different that this adjustment period had been….challenging. 

And lonely. 

Hinata had always been self-driven, pushing himself even when no one else was there to see. But he would admit at times that he missed his team, the extra bolster to his dedication a piece that was noticeably absent. His still evolving relationship with his roommate, Pedro, had no real chance of filling that gap, their communication still so stilted and foreign.

And today, of all of the days, Hinata merely wanted a friend. Someone willing to listen to him rant and scream his frustration. Someone to tell him it was going to be okay and to just keep trying. His job in food delivery helped him stay afloat, able to feed himself and afford any expenses. But this city could be confusing with its foreign signs and language he still couldn’t quite fully figure out. He had gotten lost and then, to make matters worse, his wallet had disappeared. Stolen or dropped, Hinata would never truly know, but the added stress was enough to set him on the edge.

Now here he was, in the dorm he shared with his roommate. Pedro was avoiding his gaze, most likely in an attempt to avoid another try at disjointed and confused conversation. Hinata stood, for the first time unsure of what came next. _I could always give up and go home._ He shook his head quickly, banishing the thought as fast as it had come. He never gave up, _ever,_ and he wasn’t about to start now. 

Hinata thought through his options, immediately dismissing the idea to reach out to his former teammates, the time difference easily putting that into the ‘ _incredibly rude’_ category. Besides, everyone was so busy they didn’t always answer. And even then, some of them…. _one of them_ , never really answered at all. _I miss Kageyama._

Hinata hated himself for allowing that thought into existence at all. It had taken time, but he already understood that he didn’t miss his former setter in that sense, not really. As a friend and former teammate? Of course. As something more? Not so much, merely the idea of it. Maybe. But the reality was that they _were_ never and never _would_ be anything more than friendly competitors in the sport that they both loved. Didn’t stop the ache of unfulfilled dreams from filling his chest though. _Ugh...feelings._

He gave an aggravated shout as he swiped his hands down his face in agitation. The sudden noise startled Pedro so badly that his roommate dropped the book he was trying to read. 

“Ah! Gomen nasai! Oh! Desculpa!” _I’m sorry._ Hinata bowed, tripping over the foreign lilt of portuguese. Frustrated with himself and life in general, he gestured to the door. “Fora. Costa. Voleibol.” _Out. Beach. Volleyball._ Pedro’s shoulders relaxed as his intent was made clear, Hinata was going to the beach to play volleyball and his roommate would have the dorm to himself in the meantime. Pedro nodded, retrieved his book and resumed reading. 

The afternoon air was hot and sticky on Hinata’s face as he biked toward the shoreline. The breeze generated against his skin from the quick pedalling and rolling hills was a welcome respite in the otherwise humid day. Locking his bike up in a rack, because if his bike was stolen he’d be _really_ screwed, he toed off his sneakers and stepped into the sand. His eyes were trained on the many games of volleyball being played in the crowded beach. Teams were everywhere, young and old, experienced and new, spread out and filling the air with the music of spiked balls, shouts, and laughter.

“Ay! Cuidado!” The sudden yell pulled Hinata from his focus, reacting on instinct, he lunged to grab the stray ball as it tried to shoot past. Ball securely captured in his hands, he offered it to the man who had just come off a nearby court, presumably where it had come from originally. The man said something else to him that he couldn’t quite understand, taking the sphere from his fingers.

Hinata tilted his head and tried, “E-eu não f-falo bem P-portuguese.” _I don’t speak Portuguese well._ “Inglês?” _English?_ Hinata’s English was nowhere near perfect, but being forced to learn it growing up made him far more competent than his present understanding of Portuguese. 

The man responded, accent thick and heavy, “A little.” He gestured to Hinata again, “Nice catch! You play?” 

“Hai! Er....Yes!” He nodded quickly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. Finally, a connection, small and incredibly new, but a connection all the same. 

“Where from?” Hinata laughed. For one, he knew he looked nothing like most of the people in this city, including the guy in front of him. For the most part, the people here were tall, tanned with darker hair and wide exotic features. He was short, comparatively pale even with his regular sun exposure, and his hair was bright freaking orange. Of course he stood out. 

“Japan.” He watched as the stranger’s eyes widened and a wide smile crossed his bronzed face. 

“Cool! Bem vindo ao Brasil! Welcome to Brazil!” The darker haired guy gestured back to the beach court he had been playing in, “Want to play?” 

“Hai! Ah! Yes!” Hinata was practically vibrating in excitement. He had been watching this beach for _weeks_ unsure of how to approach someone to play. This was finally his chance to join in simply out of love of the game and nothing more. This type of opportunity had been sorely lacking since he had arrived more than a month prior.

The man put his hand on his own chest, “I...uh… Paulo.” He gestured to Hinata, a universal sign to request his name. Hinata knew that names and manners were different here, but he had learned the hard way that most stumbled over his first name and had a much easier time with his last. 

Hinata pointed at Paulo and confirmed, sounding out the vowels, “Pa….Paulo.” At Paulo’s smile, he pointed to himself. “Hinata!”

“Hee..Hina...ta? Hinata?” Hinata nodded his head vigorously, grin wide with excitement. “Hinata! Perfeito! You play! I...uh...Cerveja. Beer?” Paulo pointed, indicating that Hinata should take his place in the game while he went to do….something. Hinata thought he knew what it was, but figured it didn’t matter too much. He was going to play! _Finally._

He took his place on the court, introducing himself to Paulo’s partner, Lucas. They took their positions and play resumed, Hinata and Lucas receiving the serve to proceed with the rest of the game. 

And it was bad. It was so very wonderfully, joyfully, terrible. Hinata had his moments where the cards stacked in his favor and he was able to jump high and strike the ball, kicking off cheers and excited murmurs around him. But the rest of it was a fumbling, clumsy, happy mess.

The sand tripped him. The wind blew his sets off course. His jumps were off balance and spikes wobbly. And it was the most fun he had had in what felt like ages. The pressure of getting better and making the most of his time in Brazil fell away. The frustration with the language barrier and the loneliness melted like ice in the sun. He lost track of how long he played, his partner eventually switching out with someone new as the sun moved across the sky. His latest game was winding down, and for a second he swore he could hear the sounds of home.

Wait a second… That was _most definitely_ Japanese he was hearing. 

Turning quickly he spotted a figure he never thought he would see again. Shock and joy jolted through him as he spied the familiarly styled, slightly shorter, brunette hair above molten chocolate eyes that were widened in surprise. _Oikawa Tooru. Was here._

He didn’t look quite the same as he did when Hinata last saw him back in high school. He had matured, face slightly more angled, muscles more pronounced and still several inches taller than Hinata. His white t-shirt and baggy shorts rippled in the sea breeze coming off the shoreline. _No way, no way this is happening.!_

“There is no way this is real life.” Hinata froze as the words reached him, basking in the familiar cadence of the language from his home. 

In his distraction, he failed to pay attention to the game still in progress, a mistake he instantly regretted as the ball slammed into the side of his head. Shouts of concern washed over him as the lingering sting curled along his skin. He cupped the side of his face, somehow still on his feet, and waving off several worried looks with a smile and flap of his hand. Eventually the bodies surrounding him backed away, at least somewhat convinced he was alright. 

He chanced another glance upward as his view cleared, hoping that he hadn’t been dreaming or that Oikawa hadn’t already walked off in the flurry of activity. To his relief, the taller man was still standing there, mouth agape and brows slightly furrowed in concern. His shoulders relaxed as he turned to his partner, who’s name escaped him in the moment, and gestured that he was going to step out as another onlooker was waved in. 

He took slow and steady steps towards the pavement where the beach met the streets of the city. He was waiting for the body in front of him to disappear at any moment, to realize his delusion and once again find himself alone in a foreign world. Oikawa never wavered though, and as he approached he drank in the changes since they had last seen each other all those years ago.

He stopped just before the edge of the sidewalk, digging his toes into the grainy texture of the sand in his nervousness. The other man was towering over him, his extra few inches of height bolstered by the additional step of the sidewalk. While this was Oikawa, someone who he had once known as a friend, a lot could change in three years. And they hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms, or any terms at all really. Both he and Iwaizumi had faded into anonymity without a single word or reason as to why. The dulled memory still stung when he thought about it too hard, but the distance of time had eventually taken the edge off of the bite. He was sure that had this encounter happened in years past his reaction would have been quite different. 

Oikawa breathed out, the whisper of air barely noticeable above the breeze, “Chibi-chan.” He watched the other man’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, “I can’t believe it. You’re here.” 

He had lived through this reunion in his mind more times than he could count. In every single one he shouted, he raged, he questioned, and in some instances he cried. None of the scenarios had included a chance encounter several years later across the world. And now, in this moment, he was just so very grateful to be a little less alone and happy to look upon a face he never thought he would see again.

“Y-yeah,” His voice cracked slightly as he cleared his throat. “I’m here.” To Hinata’s surprise, Oikawa bent forward and wrapped long muscled arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug that was borderline painful. For several moments he was stunned, frozen in the embrace. And then, like he had been kicked, his own arms wound around the other man’s waist and returned the hug, knocking the air from his lungs. He breathed in deeply, taking in the smell of Oikawa, fresh linen and coconut, as his face pressed into the man’s collarbone, slightly awkward from the uneven ground. 

Jumping, as if he was stung, Oikawa stepped back quickly, “Ah! Sorry about that.” He swiped a hand through his feathery brunette hair, “I got a little carried away. It’s uh...been awhile since I’ve seen anyone from home. And I...uh...missed you.” 

He blinked, still a little dazed as his arms dropped back to his sides. “S’okay.” Shaking his head, he pasted on a wide smile, “Why are _you_ in Brazil?” 

“Oh, uh… After high school I started playing for a team in the Argentinian Pro League.” Oikawa’s smile was sheepish, “We’re here for an exhibition game.” 

Hinata brightened, “Oh! So that’s what you’ve been doing!” He laughed, “You’ve been in Argentina this whole time? That’s _so_ cool!” Oikawa returned his grin, smile as dazzling as ever. “How long are you here for?” 

Oikawa paused, “Should be another week, I think. Unless something happens and our plans have to change.” Shrewd brown eyes scanned him. Hinata could almost feel the perusal like a caress along his skin, “Why are you in Brazil, Hinata-kun?” 

Hinata flushed. No matter how many times he explained it, it never really got any easier, “I’m here to master beach volleyball. So I can get better and then try and go pro.” He scratched his fingers along the back of his neck nervously as his eyes skated along the ground, unwilling to meet the brown gaze that was trained on him. It was embarrassing to admit something so mundane to a player like Oikawa.

“Bold choice,” His eyes snapped up to see the vicious smirk he had viewed so many times in their few matches against each other, “But then again, I would expect nothing else from you, little monster.” Oikawa’s stare wandered over the shore behind him, skating over the various nets and bodies crowding the area. “Beach, you say? How different could it be?”

Hinata’s grin turned wicked. Oikawa was in for a real surprise. “Do you wanna-” His stomach gave a loud rumble, angrily reminding him that the last time he had eaten was several hours and a multitude of games earlier, “Play?” 

The other man snorted, biting back chuckles as Hinata’s face flushed with embarrassment, “I don’t think I want to get anywhere near the dinosaur in your stomach.” Oikawa gave a harassed gasp, “It might eat me!” After a pause, Oikawa glanced down the street to where his teammates were lingering just out of ear shot, “Do you want to… get dinner? With me?”

Hinata felt his body buzz with excitement, before he deflated as he realized something important, “I uh… can’t. Not today.”   
  
Oikawa’s face fell, “Ah, that’s alright. I know it’s abrupt, you probably already have plans.” The other man smiled, but the gesture didn’t quite fully reach his eyes.

Feeling strange and unsure, Hinata stammered, “Er, uh… no. Not really. I just..” He took a deep breath, “I just lost my wallet. So I can’t uh...pay.” 

Oikawa’s head tilted back as he barked a laugh, “Like I was going to let you pay to begin with! What’s the point of being a pro athlete if I can’t brag from time to time?” Turning to face the other Argentinian players that were glancing at them curiously, Oikawa waved them off, shouting, “I’ll see you tomorrow!” He turned to face Hinata, the full weight of his gaze landing on the orange haired man, “So, where do you want to eat?”

~*~

Ultimately, the restaurant he had chosen was set back slightly from the main thoroughfare of cyclists, tourist traps, and overpriced food. The space was cozy and slightly older than what would normally attract the vacationers. The tables were packed together, utilizing as much space as possible and the air was stuffy and damp with only fans blowing in from propped open windows to circulate the heat. But the food was good, the owners were kind and welcoming, and Hinata could think of no better place to take Oikawa in order to welcome him to Brazil.

Hinata gestured to a table tucked away in the corner, set back from the main traffic to the entrance, but not so hidden that the mechanically generated breeze wouldn't reach them. Once he was certain that Oikawa was claiming their spot, he walked to the counter and greeted Maria, one of the owners in the husband and wife duo, warmly in broken portuguese before ordering two of his favorite dishes, hoping that Oikawa would enjoy at least one of them. Maria cooed and tuttered over him, as she always did when he came to pick up the carry out orders on his bike, before gesturing to Oikawa who was curiously looking around the restaurant and tapping a finger impatiently on the chipped wood of the table. He flushed and stammered something that he hoped sounded like ‘friend’ before she smiled and patted him on the head before shooing him off to rejoin his companion.

He took his seat, blushing slightly as Oikawa raised a brow at him, “I-I...ordered for both of us, I hope that’s alright.” He bit his lip, suddenly concerned that he had overstepped and Oikawa would be frustrated with him and this would be the last he saw of the brunette before he disappeared into the night and back to Argentina. 

“Relax, Shouyou-kun.” Oikawa’s words were soothing, “I wouldn’t know what to order anyway, I can’t exactly read the menu.” He smiled. The kind of smile that he saw briefly when he and Iwaizumi had cornered him after beating Shiratorizawa. The smile that had stuck in his head every time he wondered what had happened that made them fade out of his life.

They fell into silence. And it was so incredibly awkward. Hinata fidgeted, dragging his nail across the deep scratch on the side of his chair, bouncing his leg, biting his lip, and looking anywhere but at the man across from him. Oikawa was still beautiful, moreso even, three years after he had last seen or spoken to him. And Hinata noticed, of course he noticed. You would have to be blind not to see the charm and charisma that Oikawa had carried with him like a shroud ever since they had first met his first year of high school.

And that was exactly why it was better to not look at him, to not speak, lest he fall back into all of those _feelings_ he had worked so hard to bury so long ago. Thankfully they hadn’t quite bloomed into anything more than friendship with the promise of something more before it all fell apart. He could only imagine how much harder it would have been, would be now, if that had been the case.

“Er… So how long have you been in Brazil?” Oikawa finally broke the silence, sounding just as awkward as Hinata felt. For the most part, Oikawa didn’t _look_ uncomfortable except for the finger that continued to _tap, tap, tap_ the wood and his lower lip that would disappear quickly in a nervous bite before reappearing, damp and swollen.

Hinata tore his eye away from Oikawa’s mouth and cleared his throat, “Ah… beginning of April? So almost two months now.” He shifted nervously, desperate to keep the conversation going but unsure how, he blurted the first thing that came to mind, “How is Iwaizumi-kun?” Almost immediately he wanted to bang his head on the table, Oikawa’s flinch back from the question enough to tell him he had misstepped even though he didn’t quite know how. 

He opened his mouth to apologize, to take it back, _anything_ , when Oikawa beat him to it, “I don’t really know. We lost touch after high school.” There was a tense pause, before he continued, “But the last I heard he was in California, interning under some world renowned sports trainer or something.” Oikawa brightened, covering the moment with a laugh and waving his hand as if it was no big deal. Somehow, he could tell that the gesture was entirely fake.

Hinata wanted to ask so many things, but while he could be rather dense at times, he was adept at reading people enough to know that this was all he would probably get from Oikawa on the topic. Deciding not to press further, he changed the subject, “What’s it like to be a pro volleyball player?” 

Oikawa deflated a little, surprising the shorter man, “Oh you know, not unlike high school.” His head tilted to the side, chocolate eyes riveted on him, “The only difference is that the recruiting is better, you get paid, and there’s no timeline on how long you’re going to stick around.” The words were cool, stoic, and slightly bitter as they filled the air, his tone speaking more to Oikawa’s feelings than the words themselves. It seemed his ability to unwittingly step on social landmines hadn’t changed very much since he had arrived in Brazil.

Before Hinata could ask anything more, Maria arrived with their food, steam rising out of colorful bowls as she set everything on the table. She glanced at Oikawa and back to Hinata before throwing a very not subtle wink and stepping away, saying she would be back to check on them in a little while. Nervousness washed over him again as the taller man curiously peered down and the dishes in front of them before looking up at him expectantly. 

“Oh! Uh, right.” He cleared his throat and pointed to the bright blue bowl currently placed in front of Oikawa, “That’s Feijoada. It’s a black bean and pork stew and it’s pretty popular all over. This,” He pointed to the pale green bowl in front of himself, “Is Farofa. It’s got fried crunchy bits, I don’t really know what it’s made of, and bacon with rice and beans. You can have whichever one sounds better to you.” 

Oikawa looked at each dish skeptically, “I think this one, however you said it,” he gestured to the bowl already in front of him, “is my best bet. But I want to try both, is that okay?” Chocolate eyes locked with his own hazel gaze and Hinata slowly nodded, distracted by the intense look on Oikawa’s face. “Perfect!” And then the taller man leaned forward and paused, as if waiting for something. After a few seconds of silence, neither one of them moving, Oikawa finally pouted and whined, “Chibi-chan….give me a taste!” 

He felt his eyes widen in surprise and he swallowed hard before grabbing the spoon and digging out a portion of the Farofa, making sure to grab a little bit of everything. His hands shook as he slowly stretched his arms across the table, nearly upsetting the bite of food and dropping it all over the table with his trembling. Oikawa, seeing how unsteady Hinata was in his nervousness, leaned forward and wrapped his lips around the spoon before pulling back and leaving nothing but clean metal behind, not losing eye contact with Hinata for a single moment. 

Hinata’s gaze flicked back and forth between molten eyes and pink lips as Oikawa chewed slowly and then swallowed. Hinata swallowed, almost in an echo of the motion he had just watched, “Uh...what do you think?” 

Oikawa licked his lips, “S’good.” The other man’s cheeks are tinged the barest hint of pink as he picked up his own spoon and scooped out a bite from his own bowl, repeating the same chewing and swallowing motion that Hinata couldn’t seem to move his eyes away from. “I like this better though. So I guess I made the right choice.” 

Hinata finally dragged his gaze away from Oikawa and looked down at his own food, cheeks warming as he stared at the spoon still clutched in his grip. The spoon that Oikawa had had his lips wrapped around. He swallowed again, trying desperately to clear the fluttering of butterflies that was threatening to choke him. Shaking his head slightly, he dug into his own meal, knowing it was only a matter of time before his stomach made another very loud protest that would only embarrass him further. 

They chewed in silence for several minutes, both too interested in the tangy and robust flavors for conversation. After awhile, as Oikawa was slowing down and Hinata was polishing off the last vestiges in his bowl, the brunette broke the silence.

“How is...Kageyama?” Hinata froze, spoon clattering into the bowl with a loud clang. As if sensing his discomfort, Oikawa backpedaled, “Sorry! That was...forward. You don’t..um. It’s okay if you don’t want to answer.” 

“I...I’ll tell you,” Hinata’s voice was soft, “Only if you tell me what happened with you and Iwaizumi-kun.” He glanced up, unsure if his trade would be met with anger.

Oikawa’s head tilted as if in thought, before he shrugged, “Seems fair.” The older man sat back in his chair, pushing the nearly empty bowl away from himself and moving his hand to his face, as if to push up glasses that were no longer there. Recognizing his mistake, his hands fell back to the table and the slight drumming of fingertips along wood resumed. “Iwa-chan and I were partners once. Lovers. We never told you that.”

“I guessed it was something like that, but I didn’t know how serious.” Hinata gaze was focused and intent on the other man, not willing to miss a single drop of information. “It was easy to see the connection between the two of you. I envied it.” 

Oikawa snorted, “Guess we weren’t as discreet as we thought. Anyway,” he cleared his throat, “for various reasons it didn’t really work out. We broke up before we played our first match against you in our third year.” Oikawa paused, the drumming of his fingers increasing in tempo. “Regardless, when I left I decided it was easier to just let all of those… things...go.” 

Hinata felt the furrow of confusion cross his brow, “Things? Like… relationships?” He sat forward, “Like...me?”

“Ah...well, yes.” Oikawa looked uncomfortable and Hinata took a small grain of pleasure in seeing the other man squirm. “It wasn’t fair to anyone, you nor Iwa-chan, to be chained to someone who was leaving and never coming back. The most I could be was maybe a fond memory, and that was that.”

Hinata gaped, “Well that’s stupid.” He sat back, fingers clutching the edge of the table, “And cruel. And…” He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax, dropping his hands into his lap. “And awfully lonely.” 

Oikawa wouldn’t meet his gaze anymore, “It wasn’t easy. Still isn’t really.” The other man’s head bowed slightly, gaze fixed on his own hands, “Iwa-chan was my friend for a long time. I never dreamed we would end up like this.” 

Hinata stared hard at the man across the table, mulling over words that he wasn’t sure he should say. Finally, deciding that Oikawa’s wrath was something he could live with, he spoke firmly, “That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard.” He moved forward again, the wood between them digging into his chest as Oikawa’s head snapped up in shock, conviction lacing his tone, “I saw you two together. I saw your connection. If I _ever_ had that with anyone I would grab it with both hands and never let it go. No matter what.” He studied Oikawa’a wide eyes and surprised face before finishing, “You are the biggest idiot if you let it continue like this.” 

They stared at each other for several long moments, eyes locked, one pair firm and unyielding and the other wide and dumbfounded. Finally, Oikawa blinked and a small smile spread across his face. He crossed his arms over his chest, regarding Hinata carefully with the shrewd and calculating gaze he had become known for in high school.

“As passionate as ever, Chibi-chan.” Oikawa huffed, chest rising quickly with the action, “I didn’t want to be the one left behind. I couldn’t stand the thought of watching everyone move on thousands of miles away while I just faded out. But,” he licked his lips, the only tell in his otherwise calm visage, “I see your point. Your turn. You. Kageyama. Go.” 

Hinata flushed, heart pounding as he realized just how very forward he had been. And now it was his turn to unleash his own secrets, things his own friends didn’t really know. If the hard expression chiseled into Oikawa’s face was any indication, the other man wouldn’t be satisfied with the ambiguous summary he was inclined to share. Even after high school he didn’t particularly like swearing, but at this moment he could think of a few choice words that would help describe exactly how he was feeling.

“Tobio-san is....Tobio-san.” Hinata took a small sip of water, stalling while he sorted through his thoughts and what he should share. “He went pro after high school in Japan. He’s on the olympic team. He’s gotten everything he ever wanted.” He couldn’t help the tinge of bitterness that laced his words, sharing more than he had originally intended.

Oikawa hummed and waved his hand carelessly, “I can google all of that myself. I want to know the details.” The other man’s head tilted, molten chocolate gaze burning into him, “What happened in high school? Do you still talk? Are you… together?”

Hinata’s face felt like it was on fire as he spluttered, “Yeah right. Like Tobio-kun would have any use for me outside of volleyball.” He covered his face with his hands before groaning, “I’m really regretting telling you anything back then.” 

“Aww, don’t be like that, little monster.” Oikawa’s voice dropped, gone was the sing song and teasing voice and in its place was something deeper, more serious. “I wanted to know every single thing about you. Still do.” Long gentle fingers grasped his wrists and pulled his palms away from his eyes, “Tell me, Shouyou-kun.” 

Hinata chewed his lip, feeling himself giving into the charismatic persuasion that was Oikawa Tooru. “Ugh, fine.” He tugged his arms back, breaking the contact between them that felt far more intimate than it should. “I told you that he had..had..er..k-kissed me.” If he turned any redder his face would actually burst into flame, “But he never really wanted to talk about it.

“I tried to avoid him for awhile. It was just too weird. But that only lasted like a week or two.” He barked a humorless laugh, “And then he told me that I was a distraction that he needed to work through so it didn’t take away from volleyball.” He caught Oikawa’s wince out of the corner of his eye, his own gaze trained out the window and skating over the many bodies passing by. “It continued that way for a while, pretending everything was normal and then suddenly he would make a move. Still never wanted to talk about it though. Sometimes it would end there, sometimes it would go further. Although we never...n-never did anything super...er..serious.” 

Quiet blanketed them, calm and light as Oikawa absorbed his words and he thought through what to say next. “He made it very clear that volleyball was his goal and nothing, not even me, would stand in the way. And then we graduated and I haven’t seen him since. We text occasionally, mostly as a part of the larger chat with the rest of our former teammates, but that’s it. He didn’t even come to the goodbye party that Yachi-chan threw together at the last minute for me.” He felt the sting of moisture at the back of his eye and internally raged at how much this still hurt. 

“So to answer you, there is no ‘Me and Kageyama’. There is just me, the would-be distraction. And then there is Kageyama.” He swallowed the lump in his throat that always came when he really thought about how terribly harsh and lonely his relationship, or lack thereof, with Kageyama had been. When things were normal between them, when he could ignore the lingering questions and confusion, they had been friends and partners. But the memory of it all, when looked at with the luxury of hindsight, left behind the taste of something bitter and acrid.

He finally drew his eyes back from the nameless faces passing by the restaurant, oblivious to the emotional grenade the Hinata had just unpinned, and on to the man sitting across from him quietly. He was prepared to see several emotions; pity, sympathy, revulsion to name a few. What he was not prepared for was the mask of complete fury painted across Oikawa’s features. He gulped, leaning back and readying himself for whatever harsh words or vitriol may spew from that beautiful mouth. 

His tension leaked from him like a fast flowing river when Oikawa did finally speak, words spat like curses, “I could kill him.” The taller man’s jaw worked, muscle flexing in quick bursts. “When I left...When I stopped… I thought...I thought that he would be - “ He shook his head, cutting off his own sentence. “Forget what I thought. It’s in the past and there is nothing to be done about it.” Several deep breaths later, Oikawa continues, “I cannot promise I will be particularly pleasant to Tobio-chan the next time I see him. But that is for then. For now...” Like curtains rising to reveal stunning performers in a midsummer play, Oikawa’s face brightened, his features alight with excitement in a quick turn of emotion that left Hinata dizzy. “For now, let’s go teach me how to play beach, hmm?”


	10. Of Sand and Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting from scratch can be beneficial in more ways than one. Revenge plots are sweet. And Oikawa can be a pervert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off - sorry for taking so long to post this. I'm gonna get real for a minute. This chapter was super hard for me to write, mostly because every time I kept trying to push through it, everything sounded forced and rushed. But we got there eventually and I'm pretty happy with how it turned out.
> 
> Except for the fact that I feel like I changed styles like 8 times. And I still feel like I'm terrible at writing sex scenes. And emotions are hard. :) 
> 
> A few plot notes:  
> \- Drinking age in Brazil is 18, so I'm not going to tag it as underage, but be warned it's in here  
> \- There is sex. 'Nuff said.
> 
> Hopefully you like it! 
> 
> As always, no beta. Just me and my mistakes - but I tried real hard to catch them all.  
> Thank you for the read!

Oikawa was many things, his personality comprised of traits he had accepted of himself long ago and well before he had imposed this strange form of self-isolation when he had departed Japan for South America. Conceited, self-absorbed, and perfectionist were just a few of the titles he had been given over time and he couldn’t really find it in himself to contradict those labels. There were only a few people, less than what could be counted on a single hand, that knew what lay under the bluster and flash that he presented to the outside world. 

Hinata Shouyou had once been well on his way to understanding the chaos of emotions that resided under his exterior facade before Oikawa himself had pulled the rug from underneath them. At the time, the last thing he had wanted was another person he felt the need to safeguard, to impress, especially given his looming journey overseas. In the moment, he had taken solace in the idea that there was someone else out there who would willingly stay by the younger boy’s side, alleviating himself of any guilt he had once felt by severing the ties between them.

Except now, years later in the privacy of a restaurant, a world away from where they had first met, he had endured several agonizing minutes proving just how very wrong he had been all that time ago. The resulting jumble of feeling left him breathless; shame, guilt, regret and rage were just a few of the threads creating the tangled ball of pressure taking residence in his chest. In this moment, staring across the table to a head of orange hair and sad hazel eyes, he vowed he would never be the cause of this sort of clusterfuck again.

Oikawa was no prodigy, he was no genius with some inherent ability to read people and their motivations. But it didn’t take a savant to understand what exactly had happened these past years to draw the younger man into such a pit of confusion and hurt. The most obvious issue was the fact that Oikawa himself hadn’t been there as an ear, someone who could bolster and fortify Hinata’s boundaries and limits with someone who was otherwise deemed a friend. It didn’t take much further deduction to understand why Hinata himself hadn’t found someone else to be that person for him after Oikawa’s and then Iwaizumi’s ill thought out departure from his life. They had unwittingly taught him that there are limits to the connections you make, so it was no surprise that the gap left behind had never been filled. 

He also knew from experience, and the brief time when the younger boy had been a part of his life, that Hinata would refuse to make any waves amongst his teammates if he deemed it unnecessary and unimportant to their greater cause. A trait he both admired and hated. Such labels of ‘unnecessary’ and ‘unimportant’ he was sure the orange haired man had given to those uncomfortable and awkward moments between himself and Kageyama. As it was, he was unwilling to force Hinata to endure any further reflection and pain merely for Oikawa’s quest for answers, no matter how much he wanted to shout his irritation into the air.

‘Why didn’t you say no?’ 

‘Why did it go on for so long?’

‘Why didn’t you say anything to someone?’

All unspoken inquiries that he swallowed down like a large pill without water, because there was another title that had been given to Oikawa by the same very few people who knew him better than he really knew himself. And that was how fiercely loyal he could be when someone was considered a part of his circle. Once, Hinata Shouyou had been tipping around the very edges of said circle. Now, after being faced with his own shame and misguided choices all those years ago, called out by the very same Hinata sitting across from him, the hesitance and worry about letting another person in close seemed to fade away. 

Hinata was in, regardless of how Oikawa felt on the matter, and it was time for him to do what he did better than anyone else; bring the best out in those around him. He tamped down his fury, packed away his anger and regret, and offered the olive branch that he hoped would mend whatever broken tethers remained between them. From here forward, he and Hinata were connected, and he would be damned before he allowed that bond to sever and fray further.

“For now, let’s go teach me how to play beach, hmm?” The dazed and confused look on Hinata’s normally cheerful face almost made him laugh. Oikawa had been told many times how his quick mood changes were enough to give anyone whiplash, but to see the reaction on such an expressive face was a new experience. As the words sunk in, Hinata’s face brightened quickly and he nodded his head before gathering their dishes together to bring back to the counter. 

Oikawa, having seen the familiar and warm interaction between the restaurant owner and his shorter friend, assisted in the clean up, eager to gain any brownie points he could to win him even the smallest bit of favor. Dropping the dishes in the bin, he quickly settled their bill. 

Although he was sure they weren’t charged for the full meal.

But even so, he was unable to question it with the gaping language barrier between them. Portuguese was a dialect that he was aware of but hadn’t yet had the need to learn. But if Hinata’s flushed cheeks when the cashier, Maria he later found out, rattled off a quick succession of words in a foreign lilt followed by another very obvious wink were anything to go by, Hinata himself had something to do with it. Though he was left even more confused when Maria turned her wide gaze to him, her features firm, as she shook a finger and then tapped his nose with it before patting his head and giving him a wide smile.

Brazilians were weird.

Evidently unable to withstand the embarrassment any further, Hinata hooked calloused fingers around his elbow and tugged him from the restaurant. Oikawa let himself be dragged away, taking the time to look over the shorter man and take in all of the changes since the last time they had seen each other. Hinata had grown slightly, just a small handful of inches, though what he lacked in height he made up for in lean chorded muscle that was barely hidden under the material of his light shirt and board shorts. His hair was still wild, although it was clear that at least some effort had been put into taming it, the edges and back of his head trimmed slightly shorter than the rest, giving it a faintly more defined shape than the mop it used to be. His face had retained most of its boyish charm, only slightly more angled around his jaw and cheeks, and Oikawa grinned at the furious flush of red that was dripping from the peaks of his face down the smooth expanse of his neck.

Unable to help himself, he teased, “What did she say, Chibi-chan?” He forced his lips into a pout, leaning forward and propping his chin on the shorter man’s shoulder, “I don’t speak portuguese, are you really going to leave me in the dark?”

Finally out on the sidewalk, Hinata released his arm before stepping back and Oikawa fought not to chase the other man’s fingers and wrap them in his own. “Ah, Maria. She...she,” Hinata’s cheeks were turning a deeper shade of red, the color now expanding to kiss the collar of his shirt and Oikawa wanted to see just how far down it went. Shaking his head, he refocused his attention to the man who had no idea what kind of perverse thoughts were flashing through his mind. “D-date. She thought we were on a...on a date.” 

He felt the wide smile take over his face, “I thought that’s what we were doing, little monster. Why are you embarrassed?” Seeing shock overtake the younger man’s face, he finally gave into his laughter, “I’m only teasing, Shouyou-kun. That’s for later. For now, you promised to teach me how to play beach, and I’m not leaving here until I learn something.” He schooled his features back into his normal playful mask, praying he hadn’t taken it too far and Hinata wouldn’t run screaming for the hills.

Hinata’s mouth opened and closed several times, only short bursts of air escaping him. Hazel eyes, still slightly too large for the face framed by wild orange locks, peered back at him, a myriad of emotions passing by as Oikawa waited. Finally, Hinata barked out a laugh, “Now I finally get why Iwaizumi-kun called you the Sparkling Idiot.” The other man gestured with his hands, indicating the entirety of Oikawa, “You’re all smiles and charm and  _ confusing,  _ Oikawa-san.”

He shuddered and flicked his fingers at Hinata in agitation, “None of that. Call me Tooru. Call me baka,  _ whatever. _ Just don’t address me like we’re strangers passing on the street. Anything but that.” Oikawa hated the distance such honorifics implied, a distance that in all honesty he had placed there with every intention of never seeing Hinata again. But he was nothing if not opportunistic, and if a chance meeting in a foreign country was the kickstart to him righting at least some of his wrongs, he would exploit every little bit of leverage he could get. Starting with making the walking ball of sunshine realize just how  _ not _ formal he wanted their relationship to be. The rest would come later, after careful thought and planning, something he did like second nature. 

“Ah...alright. Tooru…-kun.” Hinata’s hand raised to the back of his neck, a nervous motion Oikawa had picked up on several times already today. 

He smiled, filing the information away. “Good enough. For now.” 

Hinata cleared his throat, eyes darting around before finally settling back on Oikawa’s shoes.  _ Cute _ . “Um… do you want to start with practicing? Or do you want to find a game and just...go?”

Oikawa smiled, all teeth and confidence, “Where’s the fun in being careful, little monster?”

Hinata laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners as he turned to the expanse of courts and matches underway, “Game it is.” 

~*~

Oikawa dropped to his knees, uncaring of the sand sticking to his skin, it had already gotten everywhere else.  _ Everywhere. Else.  _ He panted, breathless and frustrated and  _ happy _ as he tilted his head back and laughed, louder and longer than he had since he could remember. Their opponents returned, retrieving the ball from wherever he had sent it flying, somewhere that was nowhere near his intended target. That had been the match point, he had just lost the game for them and he didn’t care.  _ That was new. _

Hinata had warned him, tried to give him pointers and tips before they had started. He had waved off the words of caution, certain that his skill and experience could makeup for whatever shortfalls he would encounter. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Thankfully, the duo they had negotiated a game with didn’t seem to mind that they weren’t very good. And for once, Oikawa wasn’t really bothered, instead finding joy in the fresh feeling of trying something new and the small flutters of happiness that he hadn’t truly experienced for a long time. This almost felt like the first time he and Iwaizumi had picked up a volleyball in the later years of primary school, only instead of a jammed finger and an almost black eye, he was covered head to toe in grit and could feel the beginning stages of too much heat along his skin.

Although he couldn’t be sure if his joy was due to the game itself or merely the exuberance and excitement of his partner. This had been the first time they played together in any capacity, and the fire and passion the Hinata brought with him was something he had hardly ever experienced. So even though they had stumbled, fallen, faltered, and failed so many times during the game, he hadn’t once felt beaten or at a loss. It was an addictive draw, a powerful pull that made him wonder why no pro teams snapped Hinata up immediately out of high school.

Those were questions for another time, for now, they had a debt to settle in the form of snacks and beer for the winners before he had to call it a night and prepare for practice in the morning. They had lucked into one of the last matches of the day, evening stealing across the sky just as they had finished up. Oikawa paid, waving off Hinata’s insistence that the younger man would repay his share once he had the opportunity to replace his wallet. They chatted briefly with the brothers they had lost to, laughing at the game and the awkward plays before Oikawa grinned at Hinata and promised a rematch before he left Brazil. The two men laughed, accepting the challenge before waving them off into the night.

Oikawa took slow and steady steps in the direction of his hotel, Hinata in tow. “Where are you staying while you’re here?” His hands were shoved in his pockets, taking in the night air and with deep breath and a clear mind. A calmness he hadn’t felt in years settled into his bones, his shoulder brushing the shorter body beside him.

“Oh, I share a dorm a few blocks down that way with my roommate Pedro.” Hinata motioned forward along the path they were currently taking, “He’s nice, but talking to him is hard. I’ve been trying to make myself scarce lately, I don’t like making him feel uncomfortable.”

Oikawa nodded, recalling his first few months in Argentina. How hard it was to acclimate to the new language. How frustrating it was to settle in with his roommate who also happened to be his competition for the starting job on his new team. “How long are you staying in Brazil?” A small selfish part of him wished that there was no end date determined, the appeal of having the younger man relatively closeby an unexpected gift he didn’t want to let go of.

“Two years, give or take. Depends on how quickly all of this comes together and whether I make any pro teams.” Hinata’s words both settled and worried him. Two years was a far longer time than he could have hoped for and yet not nearly long enough for the type of future he had in mind. But once again, he was getting ahead of himself, unsure if the other man would ever even see him in that light.

“Ah, well I’m sure you’ll get snatched right up when you start looking.” He halted his steps, looking up at the slightly modern building that had been selected for their team lodging, “Well this is my hotel.” He shifted his gaze to the shorter man currently standing in front of him, Hinata’s eyes locked on the building’s doorway as he shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Is your number the same? I’ll call you tomorrow when practice is finished and you can teach me more about beach volleyball.”

Hinata’s face brightened, all traces of nervousness leaving him as he nodded, “Sounds good, Tooru-kun.” The orange haired man stepped closer, tugging on his sleeve just for a moment before quickly retreating. The gesture, no matter how small and brief, made his heart pound. “Sleep well! I-I’ll see you tomorrow.” Hinata slowly backed away, waving before he turned and started his journey home.

Oikawa watched the retreating figure, thoughts churning through his mind in rapid succession before he finally shouted, “Hey! Shouyou-kun….” He cleared his throat as the other man paused and turned back to face him, features slightly obscured by distance and the dark of night. “I know it’s more than I deserve but, please just….just answer when I call. Please.”

Hinata’s face split with a blinding smile so large his eyes crinkled closed, Oikawa could feel the warmth radiating from where he stood yards away. “I’ll always answer if you do, you big dummy.” The walking ball of joy and sunshine waved once more before continuing on his way.

Oikawa laughed quietly to himself, his smile lingering long after he was settled into his room and letting the hazy arms of sleep drag him under.

~*~

The next few days passed in a cobbled together routine that felt far more normal than it had any right to. In the morning, Oikawa practiced with his team through lunch before they were dismissed to explore the city to their heart's content. By some stroke of luck, that was also the schedule that Hinata followed with his training under Washijo-sensei’s former player. 

Oikawa’s surprise had been evident when Hinata had laid out the story for him, from his initial interest in beach volleyball to his ultimate success in finding tutelage from the Shiratorizawa coach. Although, by now Oikawa should know better than to be surprised when it came to Hinata’s never ending string of unlikely connections and supporters.

While his Argentinian teammates explored the beautiful city of Rio, some of them even scoping out the terrain in preparation for the olympics later in the year, his heart took him in another direction. One filled with sunshine, sand, and the never ending joy he found by merely being in the orbit of the former Karasuno crow learning to fly on his own. 

Each day, after Oikawa ventured back to the beaches where he had first found Hinata, they would almost immediately jump into a game. Their opponents changed constantly, some better than others, but that never stopped them from talking through issues, strategizing and doing their best to learn the ways of sand and sun. 

Little by little, they improved. Oikawa’s sets gradually growing from clumsy placements to the optimal toss he had become known for, dragging the very best out of his partner. His serves no longer caught in the net or sailed yards beyond his intended target, instead slamming with ferocity into the court and sending sand flying everywhere, excited cheers surrounding them. 

Hinata similarly acclimated, learning how the sand affected his motion, finally able to dig even the toughest of serves and spikes. His own tosses finally started connecting, giving Oikawa a fighting chance at making something of the play and his own serves growing with intensity until he was a force to contend with on his own. It wasn’t perfect, still plenty of room for improvement, but Oikawa could already see the power he would bring with him into the pro leagues when he finally decided to pursue such a path. 

When they weren’t playing, they were perched on the sidewalk overlooking the shoreline, talking animatedly about their various misadventures and sipping water under the scorching heat of the sun. Stupid things Hinata had done, reliving his misguided notion to crash various camps and practices, fights with Tsukki, and the multitude of strange rivalries that seemed to crop up out of nowhere. They spoke of the missteps made by Oikawa, back when he thought he was hot shit and ended up offending everyone on his team, resulting in the most embarrassing apology and hazing he had ever undergone as a player. To this day he still didn’t believe his teammates when they insisted that there was no video of the Hello Kitty costume he had been forced to don as he danced some stupid choreography to make up for the incident.

On one such occasion, lounging in the heat and humidity, salt and sand coating them from head to toe, Oikawa had the bright idea of taking a selfie, insisting that no one in either of their circles would believe them if they told the story later. Photo evidence was required and he would not take no for an answer. Several snaps were taken, some Oikawa would never share; moments where Hinata was doubled over in laughter or looking over the ocean and making his heart pound and hands shake so badly he was surprised the images weren’t blurry. They finally settled on a single photo that they would send to their friends, the goofiest of them all with their chests puffed out and silliest faces they could manage. They looked a little insane if he was honest, and it was perfect.

He was grinning at Hinata, photo queued up and ready to send to his former kouhais, “One. Two. Three. Go!” He tapped the button at the same time Hinata did and he couldn’t hold back the slightly manic cackle as he thought of the expressions on everyone’s faces. Most specifically, he was envisioning the boiling anger that Kageyama would feel when he realized that Hinata wasn’t overseas pining for him, Oikawa’s presence alone enough to send the message that someone else was here now. Hopefully, Hinata wouldn’t pick up on his revenge plot, but if he had to own up to his vindictiveness and jealousy, he would. With pleasure. 

After a few moments, they picked up their things and stepped away from the salty breeze and sunshine to grab an early dinner. They probably wouldn’t see anything from their friends until the next day, the time difference making it the dead of night in Japan. Tomorrow was Oikawa’s exhibition game anyway and he knew his coach and teammates would kill him if he showed up anything less than perfectly healthy and ready to play. As a result, he had to call their day early, though he felt every minute of the evening ticking by without Hinata like sand slipping through his fingers. His time in Brazil was quickly coming to a close and he saw the looming departure like a guillotine swaying dangerously above his head. 

After the initial awkwardness of the first day, things between them had settled into a comfortable companionship. It came as no surprise to Oikawa that Hinata’s normal self was rapidly stealing pieces of his heart bit by bit, carving out a space just for him. This was the entire reason he had thwarted meeting in person prior to his initial departure from Japan, the feeling of inevitable attachment something he had known with certainty in his bones, an attachment that he had wanted to avoid originally. He had only been proven correct with how quickly his feelings and  _ want _ grew with only the handful of hours between them each day spent with laughter, sweat, and shouts of excitement. 

He was so very screwed.

He thought he had everything under control, his plan to cut ties with his old life and forge an entirely new one in a foreign country was a path he had decided to walk and had never before looked back. Until now, due to a chance encounter guided by some unseen force. Somehow, between the scolding from Hinata on that first day until now, his entire view of the future had changed, growing and expanding to include things he had long ago thought weren’t to be his. It felt greedy and selfish, to desire such things knowing that he could very well be the cement block dragging everyone down with him into the abyss to suffocate. But with only the bright shine of Hinata beside him, it didn’t all look quite so troublesome or hopeless. 

Hinata made him believe things he had never before dared to consider of himself. Oikawa was in no way disadvantaged or emotionally incapable, but he knew how challenging he could be to deal with. He was intimately familiar with how dramatic and conceited he could be, how difficult it was for others to be around him sometimes. The little voices in the back of his mind were a continual reminder of his shortcomings and failures that regularly convinced him that he was better off on his own, that relying on others would only end in disappointment and hurt.

Except….Except Hinata made it not seem so hard for others to see the best in him. That there were people out there, maybe not a lot but at least a few, who would be willing to overcome trivial things like distance and time zones for the value they saw in him. People who saw him as someone they wanted to be a part of their lives and not just a memory or distant observer. 

At first, he thought he was imagining it, this sudden vision that was filling his head. But whenever Hinata talked of the future it was certain and absolute, clouding his mind with scenarios he had turned his back on once before already. The shorter man spoke of future plans, including him in that picture as if his continued presence was already a decided thing. It didn’t matter if those plans were here in Brazil or when he made his way back home to Japan, Hinata had carved a place in his life that he expected Oikawa to fill. The notion was something that he felt simultaneous elation and guilt over. 

How many times had he argued with himself over cutting out Iwaizumi, citing how challenging it was to maintain contact over distance and time difference? Was he really just a coward that decided to run away from things before they got too hard? He knew, deep down at his core that Iwaizumi would have done anything to keep their friendship alive and well. He was the one who had caused all of the unnecessary heartache, simply because he was afraid. 

He already knew the hurt he had caused Hinata was entirely his own making, no matter how new and fragile their relationship had been all those years ago and was already on his way to atonement. Now it was time to own up to his own idiocy regarding his blatant disregard for the one person who had been his unconditional support through, arguably, Oikawa’s worst phases of growing up. The one person who hadn’t faltered even a single second of that time. But how? 

Had too much time passed? Had Iwaizumi written him off already? What if he reached out and Iwaizumi told him off and then never spoke to him again? 

Groaning into his pillow, Oikawa tried to turn his mind off. This, right here, was his biggest shortfall beyond anything else he could have ever done. He was too prone to getting lost in his own mind, spiraling through what if’s and worst cases until he made himself sick with anxiety. It was half the reason that Iwaizumi would always smack him back in high school, the physical startle enough to pull him out of whatever doom spiral his mind decided to drag him on in the moment. 

“Shut up, shut up,  _ shut up!”  _ He pulled the pillow over his face and tried to quiet his thoughts. If he turned up tomorrow sleepless and tired he would never hear the end of it. Picking up his phone, he glanced at the time and huffed a sigh before sagging back into the bed in agitation. 

It was late, but hopefully not too late. Unlocking the screen, he ignored the messages that were starting to pour in from his former underclassman, each a variation of surprise and excitement regarding the photo he had sent earlier, and pulled up his current conversation thread with Hinata.

**Oikawa:** _ You awake? _

He clicked send and waited, hoping he wasn’t waking up the younger man when he also had an early start the following morning. After several seconds, almost giving up and debating searching for something heavy and solid to knock himself out with, his phone pinged.

**Chibi-chan:** _ Kinda. What’s wrong?  _

**Oikawa:** _ Sorry, I don’t want to keep you up. _

**Chibi-chan:** _ Tooru, what’s going on? _

**Oikawa:** _ :) :) _

**Chibi-chan:** _ Huh? _

**Oikawa:** _ You called me by my name. _

**Chibi-chan:** _ Shut up, it’s late and I’m tired. What is it?  _

**Oikawa:** _ Oooooh, the monster gets cranky when he’s sleepy _

**Chibi-chan:** _ Making fun isn’t nice. I wanna sleeeeeeep _

**Oikawa:** _ Fine fine. If you were me, how would you reach out to someone after practically ignoring them for three years. _

He waited several minutes, tapping the phone to his chin and wondering if Hinata really had fallen back asleep. It was a stupid question to ask anyway. None of this was a burden he should have placed on the orange haired man. Ready to type out an apology and to forget the whole thing, he lifted the device just as it finally chimed again.

**Chibi-chan:** _ I don’t know. Just do it, at least that’s what I would do. If it makes it easier, find something you both like and bring that up. You could talk about volleyball, or nationals...oh wait :P _

**Oikawa:** _ Little shit, that was mean!  _

**Chibi-chan:** _ Cursing is rude, Tooru-kun. Get some sleep, your game is tomorrow. _

**Oikawa:** _ So I just….find something we both like and bring it up?  _

**Chibi-chan:** _ YES! Now leave me alone and let me sleep! _

**Oikawa:** _ Goodnight, Sho-chan. _

**Chibi-chan:** _ Goodnight, Sparkling Idiot. _

Oikawa laughed into the quiet air of his hotel room, setting the phone aside and turning back into the covers, already feeling a little better. The rest of it was a problem for future him, for now, he would have to be content with merely having an idea of what to do next. 

~*~

By the following afternoon, Oikawa was riding the high of victory that could only come with an unlikely win or a particularly good showing. This exhibition game had been both for him, the team they played was highly ranked and powerful and somehow he had played on a level he had never reached before in their ultimate win over the host team. After their post game huddle and retreat to the locker room to change, whispers had already begun about him easily making the olympic team if this continued. The idea sent a spark through him that he imagined felt an awful lot like what Hinata felt when he took on a new challenge. 

After final comments from his coach and a promise that practice the following morning was cancelled, Oikawa was out the door and ready to celebrate. He checked the time quickly on his phone before pulling up the younger man’s number and dialing out, grateful that it was already past when Hinata’s beach practice would be over. 

He waited several seconds for the call to connect before a voice like sunshine and lemonade washed over him,  _ “How did it go? Did you win? Was that one super scary spiker playing? Did you use that new serve you’ve been working on?”  _   
  
Oikawa laughed, cutting off the steady stream of questions shooting through the phone, “Breathe, Shouyou-kun.” His grin was so wide it almost hurt his cheeks, “And to answer…. Good. Yes. Yes. And not yet.” He planted his feet on the warm concrete outside, watching as his other teammates grouped up and trickled out of the stadium, talking animatedly about plans to go out and party. While he wanted to celebrate, crowded bars sticky with sweat and booze weren’t exactly what he had in mind. He wondered if Hinata would be interested in something a little...quieter

_ “.....bummer! Next time though!”  _ He tuned back into Hinata’s words, pulling himself from his own musings in time to catch the tail end. Thankfully, it was easy enough to piece together and he didn’t have to feel guilty for zoning out momentarily. “ _ What is the team doing to celebrate? You said a win would be huge, right?”  _ He was puzzling over if Hinata would go for his suggestion, dragging the pause in conversation into distinctly awkward territory.  _ “Tooru-kun?” _

_ To hell with it.  _ “They’re all going out, but I would rather stay in. Would you come and drink with me, Chibi-chan?” The words burst from him in a rush, his own nervousness making him stumble and trip. They had spent plenty of time together the last few days, more than he had spent with any single person other than his roommate in Argentina, but this was crossing into new territory. All of the other times they were playing volleyball or chatting with other players, buying food or beer or simply comparing notes. If Hinata agreed, they would be alone, away from prying eyes and ears and entirely isolated. 

_ “Uh….”  _ Oikawa’s heart dropped at the hesitation in HInata’s voice, already scrambling for other suggestions that were less… intimate. “ _ Sure, if you don’t mind waiting a little? I need to go home and shower and change. I smell.” _

Relief surged through him, nerves fading to the back of his tongue like bitter chocolate, “You can use my shower and I’ll lend you something to wear.” His offer, originally intended to be friendly and convenient, sent a wave of heat sparking through him as he pictured Hinata in his shower, naked and wet. “I can pick up beer or whatever on the way, you can just meet me out front.” 

Silence dragged for a minute, just long enough to make him wonder if he had overstepped before the timid response came,  _ “Are you sure? It will probably only take me a little over an hour to-” _

Oikawa interrupted, trying to keep his tone light and teasing but still hearing the small plea in his own voice, “Nope. Too long. I’m leaving in  _ three days,  _ every hour counts!” His shoulders sagged in relief when Hinata’s smooth chuckle filtered through the receiver.

_ “Fine, fine.”  _ He could almost picture the eye roll Hinata was throwing his way,  _ “But get something other than beer, it’s gross. I’ll be there in 15.” _

The line clicked in his ear as a wide smile split his face. He dropped the phone into his pocket before cocking his head back and fucking  _ giggling _ in delight. Unable to help himself, he pumped his arms in excitement, hips wiggling only slightly as he tried not to be a  _ complete _ lunatic in front of all of the pedestrians currently giving him the side eye. He didn’t know why this felt so  _ important,  _ but some small voice in the back of his head said that tonight would change everything one way or another. He would do his damndest to make it go the way he wanted. 

Quickly refocusing, he took rapid steps back towards his hotel, to where Hinata would be waiting for him in only a few minutes. He stopped once for takeout, already feeling the tell tale rumble of hunger in his stomach and only imagining the equal if not more voracious appetite of his friend after a full day of practice. He stopped a second time and, with the help of the clerk, grabbed some sort of fruity alcohol cocktail that he hoped Hinata would like, thankful that it was easy and not tequila. He shuddered with the painful memory of his past adventures with that particular liquor and quickly dismissed the possibility of a repeat performance.  _ Never again. _

Picking up his pace, feeling the minutes tick down quickly and knowing Hinata would rib him for  _ ages _ if he took too long, he finished the trek, stepping into the shadow of the building only moments after the other man.

Hinata gawked at him, eyes comically wide as he took in Oikawa’s burden, “Not that I’m complaining, but how much did you get?” With a laugh, the younger man grabbed the bags of takeout from his arm, leaving behind skin wrinkled and red from the pressure of the plastic on his flesh. 

“This is a marathon, not a sprint, Shouyou-kun.” He tossed a wink as he grinned mischievously, “Gotta have enough food to last the evening and I didn’t know how much of a lightweight you are.” His grin only grew as a slight flush colored the other man’s cheeks. “Now let’s get to it, we got some drinking to do!” He stepped forward, pulling the door open and ushering the shorter body inside, pointing to the stairwell to take them up another floor. It never hurt to get a little extra exercise and skip the elevator given the night planned ahead of them. Alcohol and fried foods were fun, but definitely not on an athlete’s standard diet plan.

After shutting them inside the room, Oikawa toed off his shoes and made a beeline for the coffee table set in the small living space, socked feet making no noise as they slid over the hardwood. The room wasn’t particularly large, the floor plan open and fairly utilitarian. The bed had a small half wall blocking it from direct view with a small closet tucked in the corner. The rest of the area housed a small kitchenette that could hold and reheat little more than a few containers of takeout, a short couch that would fit no more than two people, the coffee table that Oikawa was laying out drinks on, and a modestly sized TV that he never turned on. The bathroom, where he was motioning for Hinata to go to take his shower, because he was right, he did smell, was set between the entry to the sleeping area and the communal space. 

“Go shower. I’ll grab something for you to wear and then set out the food.” He smiled at Hinata’s nervous flush and the adorably cute way he seemed frozen in the doorway to the room. “No rush, we have all evening.” His cheeky wink seemed to be enough to snap the younger man out of whatever internal panic he seemed to be having. 

“Ah, right! Thanks!” Hinata finished removing his shoes, keeping his socks on after seeing that there were no slippers laid out, a change from his home customs that Oikawa still had trouble getting used to. “I’ll just..uh.. Go do...that.” Oikawa bit his lip to suppress his laughter as the orange haired ball of nerves awkwardly shuffled his way to the bathroom and quietly snapped the door shut behind him. 

He finished laying out the beverages and the food, mostly finger foods that were easy for either of them to pick up without dirtying any dishes. Oikawa would take advantage of any opportunity to eliminate the need for him to wash plates and cutlery, the task just so incredibly… mundane. His initial task complete, he wandered over the small closest and thought through what he had on hand that he could lend to Hinata to wear that wouldn’t immediately fall off of him. He eventually settled on a stretchy tank top and some drawstring shorts that would hopefully tie tight enough around the waist. 

He was startled out of his task when the bathroom door clicked open slightly behind him, revealing damp hair and a lithe body concealed by a towel. Either Hinata took the fastest showers known to man or Oikawa had spent longer picturing the smaller man in his clothes than he thought. He shook his head and made his way across the room quickly, neatly stacked pile of clothes in hand.

“These will probably be a little big, but I think we can make them work.” He handed the bundle over, Hinata's fingers dragging over his own in the transition. He cleared his throat, heart jumping at the contact and trying desperately not to rake his gaze over dewy skin littered with streaks of water. One particular trail of moisture was slowly dipping into the hollow of the other man’s collar bone and he had to physically restrain himself from leaning forward to lick it away.  _ Down boy. _ Stepping back, creating some space from the haze in his own mind as Hinata’s wide eyes watched him curiously, he gestured to the coffee table, “Everything is ready when you are! Hurry up, I’m starved.” 

Hinata smiled at him and closed the door, allowing him to exhale in relief, thankfully not having made an ass of himself. Tonight was about being together and alone, but he expected nothing more than a deepening of their connection. He refused to do something that would scare the other man away before they really even had a chance to start, a feat that was easier said than done now that he had the orange haired man in the intimate space of his hotel room.  _ Keep it together and keep it in your pants, Tooru. _

Settling himself on the floor in front of the couch, to provide easier access to food and drink, he opened the first of the colorful bottles and took a long draw of the fruity liquid, wincing slightly as the overly sweet flavor crossed his tongue. It wasn’t...bad necessarily, just not the robustly bitter taste he had come to associate with casual drinking. He would get used to it. 

He took another sip, trying to calm his nerves and tamp down the very vivid images racing through his brain in bright technicolor. _ Maybe this was a bad idea afterall.  _ He tossed his head, banishing the thought before it could take root and make him even more nervous. This was just Hinata. In his hotel room. Alone. No big deal. 

The bathroom door finally clicked open, the fluorescent light blinding him briefly until Hinata flipped the switch with another soft click. Oikawa swallowed hard, eyes bouncing head to toe across the other man’s body, taking in the slightly too big clothing, damp hair, and skin flushed from the warmth of the water.  _ I am so screwed. _ Hinata set his clothing in a neat pile out of the way before wandering over and taking the spot next to him, leaning against the couch and feet tucked underneath him. 

It took a second for Oikawa to find his voice, afraid that it would come out squeaky or weak and make the situation even more awkward. “Help yourself to anything. I don’t know if you’ll like these, but the clerk recommended them since you said you don’t like beer.” He handed a bottle over, popping the lid and wiping some of the condensation away before settling back in and trying to relax his muscles.

Hinata studied the glass curiously, reading the label and taking a hesitant sniff as if that would provide some clarity on what he was about to drink. Finally, the smaller man shrugged and offered the bottle to him in a salute, “To winning when no one expects you to.” Oikawa huffed a small laugh, tapped the glasses together with a soft clink and took another small sip of the fruity concoction that he was quickly growing to like. His eyes were glued to Hinata’s mouth as the orange haired man took his own small sip with a slight grimace, “What’s in this?” 

“No idea, but you said no beer so this is what you get.” Oikawa grinned, voice teasing and relaxed. “Eat something first, I know I’m starved.” And just like that, with Hinata digging into the food as if it would be his last meal, the tension eased and Oikawa fell into the familiar comfort of the other man’s presence. The ease with which they seemed to be able to talk about nothing and everything always surprised him, but each time it only served to confirm how much Oikawa needed Hinata in his life. He would settle for friends, if he had to, but his heart was telling him that it should, and would, be so much more than that. Somewhere between now and forever, Oikawa would be irrevocably changed because of this man and somehow, the thought of returning to Argentina alone didn’t seem to terrify him as much anymore. 

Hours passed, the space filled with laughter and conversation. Oikawa re-enacted parts of the exhibition game, mostly just to see Hinata’s face light up in joy as he spread his arms wide and mimicked spiking or setting. Hinata shared his latest beach accomplishments, excitement infectious over how much he had improved in the last week alone, something that his coach and mentor had commented on several times this week. Oikawa had nearly choked on his own tongue as Hinata had quietly murmured ‘ _ It’s all thanks to you, Tooru-kun.’ _ Dialogue passed easily between them, topics flowing together with hardly any pause and before he knew it, it was late and their evening’s fare was consumed, takeout boxes empty and bottles neatly stacked together ready to be recycled. 

He had a buzz, something light and warm in the back of his mind, just enough to loosen his tongue and slow his racing thoughts. He was staring at Hinata who was resting languidly, fully on the floor having given up leaning against the couch in favor of sprawling out. The other man’s cheeks were flushed, but his eyes were bright and focused on him with what Oikawa could only hope was affection. Too afraid to be caught ogling, he moved so that he was also draped across the hardwood, slotting his head in over Hinata’s shoulder, skin warm against his ear with their arms pressed together, so that they were laying perpendicular to each other, eyes set on the ceiling. 

It was quiet, comfortably so, soothing in a way he hadn’t felt in years. He was so relaxed, he hadn’t realized he had spoken until the words were already unleashed into the air, “I like you, Shouyou-kun.” His muscles tensed, uncertainty and fear blasted through him in a wave as he prayed that Hinata hadn’t heard him.

“You’re a good friend, Tooru-kun. I like you too.” The words should have settled him, assuring him that they could fall back into the easy rhythm of just two bodies resting in good company. But it felt like this wasn’t the time to be timid or shy, it was no guarantee he would ever get an opportunity like this again. 

He rolled, propping himself up on his arms, leaning slightly over the smaller man to catch his eye directly, “Not like that, Shouyou-kun. Not just a friend.” He paused, watching the emotions flicker across Hinata’s face in a rapid sequence; confusion, understanding, shock. “I  _ like _ you, like you. I did back then, I still do now.” 

Hinata’s face flushed a deep shade of red that Oikawa couldn’t look away from, “Uh.. that… I..” The younger man licked his lips nervously and he tracked every movement with a heated gaze. “W-what about Iwaizumi-kun?” 

Of all of the questions he expected to get, that was not it. 

“Ah…  _ That _ is a story for another day. But…” He trailed off, hoping these words wouldn’t come back to bite him, “I don’t think he would mind very much.” Hinata’s brow furrowed and Oikawa held up a hand to stop the other man from speaking. “I will tell you all of it, but some other time. Right now, this is just about you and me.” 

They remained frozen, a very clear crossroads laid before them. Oikawa could hardly breathe, wondering if he had already messed everything up with his loose tongue and eager heart. There was nothing stopping Hinata from getting up right now and walking out, never speaking to him again. The thought sent a rolling ache through his chest as he thought of any way he could undo the last few minutes and just take back what he said. Hinata’s eyes were locked on him, wide and wild with the look he always seemed to get when he was hyper focused. But he still wasn’t  _ saying  _ anything and Oikawa felt like he was going to be sick, nerves a writhing mass in his stomach. 

Unable to take the silence any longer, he moved to get up, to get some  _ space,  _ “I-I’m sorry. Please don’t-” His words cut off as calloused hands shot forward to cup his face, clutching his cheeks and jaw and pulling him down with a soft  _ ‘oomf’.  _ His eyes were wide as warm lips slanted across his own. Hinata’s eyes were closed, long lashes casting shadows on pink cheeks as he remained frozen in place, unmoving and stunned with surprise. 

After several seconds, Hinata pulled back stammering apologies, “I’m sorry! I d-didn’t -mmph!” Any other words that were ready to spill from the other man’s mouth were smothered with his lips as he pressed forward, excitement and a giddy sense of delight rushing through him. He quickly pulled himself to his knees to free up his hands to clutch desperately at soft orange strands of hair and trace across cheekbones dusted with freckles from the sun. 

He brushed his lips across Hinata’s once, twice, three times before darting his tongue out in the tiniest swipe, seeking permission to take the kiss further. A small whine escaped the other man as lithe arms reached up to clutch at his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt and pulling him closer. Hinata’s body relaxed into his hold, as Oikawa pressed closer, tongue darting through parted lips as the smaller man opened for him. He was slow and methodical, exploring this new territory and categorizing every single moan and gasp he coaxed out. 

Finally, dizzy from lack of air and adrenaline, he pulled back as Hinata gave a whimper of protest. He panted, taking in dazed hazel eyes the color of honeyed whiskey and slight sheen left behind on pink and swollen lips. This was a view he knew he would never tire of, something he would carry with him the rest of his life even if Hinata refused to ever speak to him again after this. 

“Tooru-kun,” Hinata’s voice was a husky whisper, “I think...I think I like you too.” Oikawa laughed, joy blooming in his chest. He reached out, pulling the smaller man upright, rearranging limbs so that Hinata was locked between his own body and the couch, one of his knees slotted between Hinata’s thighs as he pushed up to get a better angle. Hinata looked up at him, head tilted slightly back to rest on the seat cushions as Oikawa wrapped one long fingered hand across his jaw, thumb resting delicately below a pointed chin and fingers tangled in the soft hair at the nape of a slender neck. 

“Good.” Locking his eyes with the slightly glassy gaze below him he dropped his lips to the other man’s again in an open mouthed kiss, tangling their tongues together and drawing out sounds that rang like a symphony in his ears. Hinata’s arms tangled in the back of his shirt, pulling on the fabric as trim hips arched against him in a motion that Oikawa was sure was unconsciously done. He could feel Hinata’s excitement pressing against him, firm and eager, his own hardness becoming an uncomfortable pressure underneath layers of clothing. 

He pulled away again, trying not to overstep the line where this might become too much. “Shouyou-kun…” He waited for dazed eyes to focus on him again, a dopey smile stretching across kiss stung lips. “Shouyou-kun, we will only go as far as you want to, okay?” Hinata’s eyebrows dropped, looking up at him with an expression somewhere between curiosity and confusion. “That means that whenever you want to stop, we will.” 

Hinata bit his lip, dropping his gaze, “I-I’ve never done… much more than this.” Oikawa ticked his finger under the other man’s chin, encouraging hazel eyes to meet his own. “I don’t want to stop though, at least not yet.” 

Oikawa nodded, “We’ll go slow. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like or just tell me to stop and I will. Okay?” There was a humming in his veins, arousal mixed with delight as he pressed delicate kisses across warm skin, moving across the other man’s jaw and down his neck, biting and licking and sucking. Curious, he paused at the juncture of shoulder and neck and lightly bit down, immediately rewarded with a cry and hips kicking up against him, seeking out more friction. He grinned, “Anywhere you don’t want me to leave a mark, Shouyou?” He dropped the honorifics, they were well past that now and hopefully his partner would feel similarly soon. 

“Uh...Um..” Hinata stammered, obviously distracted. The orange haired man licked his lips before the words seemed to register, “Ah...nowhere that I can’t cover for volleyball?” Oikawa felt his eyebrow raise, wondering at the questioning tone before remembering that Kageyama probably never even asked these types of questions. He quickly tamped down on the anger that still boiled within him and refocused on the task at hand. He would make sure, beyond a shadow of any doubt, that Hinata could trust him with his boundaries and limits.

“I can do that.” He grinned, reassuring the smaller man before dropping his mouth slightly lower, well below where the neckline of a shirt would cover and repeating the motion, biting enough to leave indents of his teeth before following it with a harsh suck, drawing a gentle bruise to the surface. The mark sent a wave of heat rushing through him, something dark and possessive he had never really felt before except with Iwaizumi. Throughout it all, Hinata’s moans coated the air, clearly enjoying the treatment as the younger man continued to try to pull their bodies closer together. 

He pulled back again, smiling at the frustrated growl from Hinata, “Come on, little monster. Let’s move somewhere a little more comfortable than the floor.” The orange haired man laughed, grabbing Oikawa’s hand as he stood and pulled the smaller body up. Immediately, he leaned forward, wrapping Hinata in his arms, pressing their mouths together again as he blindly moved them in the direction of the bed, stumbling only slightly as their legs tangled together.

When they reached the edge of the mattress, he gave a gentle push to Hinata’s shoulders causing him to fall backward and sink into the plush comforter. He stood and stared for a moment, drinking in the sight before him with hungry eyes. Hinata’s hair was rumpled and untamed, a bright contrast to the white linen. The tank top Oikawa had loaned him was rucked up at the bottom revealing toned abs and smooth skin and a faint happy trail leading to where the shorts were slipping down off of slender hips, barely preserving the other man’s modesty. His gaze tracked back up to lock on to hazel eyes that were staring up at him, glistening with a sheen of excitement, as he licked his lips and bent forward, pushing the tank top further up a toned chest and licking a stripe from navel to sternum. 

Hinata’s strangled gasp was enough to tell him to keep going, alternating between dragging his tongue along slightly salty skin and coaxing more pinkish-purple marks to the surface, laying out a trail following his mouth. The orange haired man writhed, legs dangling and not quite touching the floor, hips pressing forward and then releasing, hands tangling into soft cotton as Oikawa mapped every ridge and crevice before him. After another moment, he upped his ministrations by revealing soft pink nipples and twirling his tongue around each one like it was the tip of an ice cream cone. 

Hinata’s whimper went straight to his head, and his cock too if he was being honest. “T-Tooru! I d-don’t - ah!  _ Please!” _ Oikawa tilted his head lazily, cheek resting on a muscled pectoral as he flicked his tongue out to keep tasting and exploring. He looked up at Hinata’s flushed face, waiting for the man to either tell him to stop or to tell him what he wanted, he wasn’t sure which it would be. And while stopping would suck, he would do it for no other reason than he refused to make Hinata feel like he had no power in this situation. “I-I’ve never done this much b-before. What am I supposed to do?” 

Oikawa grinned, “Right now, you’re doing exactly what I want you to do.” He roughly kissed flesh speckled with goosebumps. “Laid out.” Kiss. “While I.” Another kiss. “Taste all of you.” He finished with a firm bite and a harsh suck over muscled flank. “You can touch me if you want, but we’re not moving on until I’m satisfied.” Tentative fingers raked through his hair at the statement, clutching lightly at the strands before moving down, caressing the back of his neck and smoothing over his shoulders still covered by the cotton of his t-shirt. Oikawa shivered, the other man’s touch on his skin leaving a trail of fire behind, making him burn for more.

He refocused his attention to the body before him, moving down to the skin just above the drawstring shorts that had been rolled several times. He looked up, curling his fingers just under the fabric and giving an experimental tug, waiting for Hinata to tell him no. The other man just looked down at him before nodding and pulling his hands to his face to cover the bright red streaks of color painting his cheeks with embarrassment.  _ Oh that’s fun.  _ As he watched, he could clearly see the heat track down Hinata’s neck, across his collarbone and down his chest. Hinata blushed  _ everywhere _ and there was something so incredibly  _ cute _ about it that Oikawa’s jaw ached with the effort to restrain himself from laying more bites to the pinkened canvas. 

Apparently, cute things made him...bitey.  _ Good to know. _

Continuing with his journey, he finished tugging the shorts down, revealing more smooth skin and Hinata’s cock, thick and hard and slickened at the tip with precum. He tossed the fabric somewhere to the side, not caring where they landed as he took in the newly exposed flesh. He licked his lips, Hinata wasn’t overly large but bigger than what could be considered strictly proportional, girthy and straight in his excitement. 

“T-Tooru-kun, don’t  _ stare  _ at it!” Hinata was looking at him again, peeking through his fingers and quite obviously embarrassed. A small thrill ran through him as he remembered that the first time Hinata was doing this was with him, the emotion feeding the possessive beast inside him that he liked to pretend didn’t exist. Hinata had no clue what was in store after this, Oikawa would be on him like a barnacle, and he couldn’t bring himself to mind the notion like he would have in the past, this level of attachment something he had seen as a weakness not so long ago. 

“Oh, I plan to do more than just stare at it, little monster.” With a wicked grin and a wink he dropped to his knees between Hinata’s spread thighs, the height of the bed placing him at the perfect spot, and traced his tongue quickly from base to tip, groaning in response to the broken moan that spilled from parted lips. He swirled a lick around the crown, gathering up sticky fluid before teasing the slit lightly, earning himself another moan and fingers locked back into his hair, nails scratching his scalp. 

Pleas and gasps started to run together as he wrapped his lips around the rigid length, suctioning slightly before slowly working it into his mouth. It fit, barely, and if Oikawa could smile, he would.  _ This was going to be fun. _ He pulled back a little before pushing forward again, sneaking his tongue out as best as he could around the hardness in his mouth and licking every bit of skin he could reach, skin that, if the new pitch in whines and whimpers were any indication, was incredibly sensitive. 

He withdrew, panting slightly as he watched the rapid rise and fall of Hinata’s chest. He really was beautiful, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back, mouth dropped open in a moan, muscles twitching underneath Oikawa’s fingertips as he lazily traced patterns into sweat dampened flesh. He dropped a hand to himself, squeezing lightly around his own erection to alleviate some of the pressure underneath layers of cloth.

Returning to his task, he dropped his mouth over Hinata’s length and proceeded to experiment, although later Hinata would insist that it was torture, catologuing every movement and angle that got so much as a shudder of pleasure from the other man. A swallow around the mass gently nudging the back of his throat got him thrusting hips that Oikawa had to pin down with his hands. A hum rewarded him with trembling limbs and a whimper so arousing he had to press himself against the edge of the mattress to get some friction. 

And on it went until he pulled back again for breath and when he went to press forward was met with damp palms pushing against his forehead and hips writhing in an attempt to get away, “N-no more. It’s t-too… I  _ can’t _ , I’m gonna c-come.” That wicked satisfaction was back, something edgy coiling in his belly. He had done this to the orange haired ball of sunshine, all of it. The flushed and dampened skin, glassy unfocused eyes, shattered cries and plea for mercy were all because of  _ him.  _

“Chibi-chan,” He dragged out the nickname, his voice husky and deep. It was with a small measure of ego that he noted the shudder that rippled through Hinata’s body at his words. “Are you saying you want to stop?” He waited as the small man panted, before being given a tentative head shake. Oikawa’s responding smile must have been downright evil if the widened eyes and slightly panicked expression looking back at him were any indication. “Then…” He grabbed the wrists that were attempting to push him away, pinning them to the bed next to slim hips. “Come, Shouyou. I want it. I want  _ you.”  _

He pressed forward again, licking and sucking as the younger man writhed, locked in place by his hands. It was only a few moments before Hinata came with a hoarse shout in the air, body rigid and arching as salty liquid splashed across his tongue and down his throat. He hummed in pleasure, not so much at the taste but at the blissed out expression on the other man’s face, the vibration causing Hinata to twitch and writhe and whimper in his hold. He finally pulled back and stood, licking his lips and catching his breath as he waited for the younger man to come back to himself.

“Wow.” Oikawa would be the first to admit that his grin was entirely too smug, but he couldn’t help but preen at the awe and satisfaction in that one word alone. “I never thought it could be… wow.” Hinata’s words were breathless and rambling, still too sated and relaxed to be embarrassed and not yet aware of Oikawa’s heavy gaze. “You were all ‘bwahhh’ and I was just like ‘uwaaahh’ and then ‘pffffft’.” Hinata’s hands made exploding motions by his head and Oikawa finally gave into the tickling urge to laugh, deep chuckles spilling from his lips. 

Hinata, as if realizing what he just said, froze in place, eyes wide and a slow flush creeping down his chest. Oikawa could only laugh harder, his stomach seizing and tears springing to his eyes in mirth. Nothing was ever as expected with this man and he was glad for the break in tension, giving them a moment to reset without the awkwardness that typically permeated first time encounters, even if it drew their evening to a close.

“Oh my god.” Hinata’s hands covered his face, “Way to be a total  _ idiot _ , Shouyou.  _ Volleyball _ noises!  _ Really? _ ” Oikawa was positive that those words, a heated and quietly spoken chastisement, were not meant for him to hear, but were hard to miss in the otherwise quiet room. He couldn’t help his snort of amusement as he leaned forward, pressing his knee into the bedding just outside of Hinata’s thigh, gently circling the other man’s wrists with his fingers and tugging them away to reveal Hinata’s embarrassed expression. 

“It’s okay, Shouyou.” His smile was soft as he peered down at the face below him, “You’re allowed to be a little weird.” Hinata’s face contorted in a grimace and he bent down to kiss the crinkles and creases, smoothing the expression away. “Do you want to stop?”

As if realizing for the first time that he was naked, save the tank top tangled up under his arms, and that Oikawa was distinctly  _ not  _ naked, Hinata gave a tiny squeak and pulled his arms back, Oikawa releasing his grip easily. One hand frantically started tugging the bunched fabric back down while the other tried to cover his cock, still shiny with the remnants of saliva and his release. 

“Tsk, tsk, Chibi-chan,” Oikawa slid his hands up the warm skin of the other man’s stomach, rucking up the fabric all over again. “You have to use your words, Shouyou,” Oikawa’s tone was light and teasing, “If you want to stop you have to say so. If you don’t, well…” He edged closer, lips skimming the shell of Hinata’s ear, “It’s rather rude to cover up all of my hard work, yeah?” The other man’s body shivered under him again, filling his head with all sorts of ideas. 

He pitched his voice low, not a hard feat given how husky his tone already was, “What do you say, little monster? Do you want to keep going?” He skimmed the fingers of one hand lightly along the skin of Hinata’s collarbone, playing briefly along the round of his shoulder before repeating the circuit, as his other hand kept him propped up slightly. Hinata shook again before giving a small nod, “Words, Shouyou.” 

Hinata gasped, “Y-yes, Tooru-kun.” Oikawa hummed in approval before pulling back and tugging on the fabric of the tank top, urging the other man to sit up so he could drag the cloth up and toss it away. He dropped his fingers to grab the hem of his own T-shirt, pausing when he was met by warm and calloused hands sneaking underneath to splay across his stomach. “I-I wanna do it.” Hinata’s words were soft but firm, causing Oikawa to drop his arms and sit forward to give his orange haired lover room to explore. Hinata repositioned up on his knees, eyes eager and intent as he reached out.

“”M all yours, Shouyou.” He felt his abs clench under the gentle scraping of fingertips along his skin, the soft cotton of his shirt catching on the motion as Hinata worked his hands further up to his chest, pausing occasionally in a lingering caress . He murmured soft sounds of encouragement, the words falling from his lips like drips of honey, “I like when you touch me. You’re doing so good, Sho. Keep going. Yesss…” He hissed when a nail dragged softly across his nipple, “More, just like that.” Impatient, he dragged the shirt up and over his head, stitching snapping in protest at his haste.

“H-hey! I wanted to-” Oikawa cut him off, lacing his fingers through soft orange hair and dragging Hinata’s mouth to his own, plunging his tongue inside and tasting,  _ taking  _ as much as he could. Hinata’s hands clung to his shoulders at the loss of balance and he gasped as warm skin pressed into his own along the length of his torso.

“Too slow.” Oikawa murmured between kisses, diving in over and over, coaxing and deep. Hinata was only thrown for a moment before hands started trailing down his back, teasing at the skin just above his shorts. “S’okay. More.  _ Please.”  _ Emboldened by his words, Hinata’s hands traced the fabric to the front of him, pausing for only a moment before warm fingers snuck underneath. Fingertips explored every dip and crevice, grazing briefly across the tip of his cock, drawing a rumbling moan from him, hips bucking forward in search of  _ more. _

Hinata pulled back from his lips, hands grasping the band of his shorts more firmly and tugging down. In a mimic of the attention he had paid Hinata earlier, a warm mouth, open, wet, and sloppy dragged across the skin of his chest, tiny bites shooting streaks of lust straight to his dick. The progression of lips along his flesh was slow and frustrating and so  _ so good, _ the haze of desire in his mind so consuming he barely realized Hinata had finished pulling his clothing the rest of the way off, the fabric falling to tangle around his knees supporting him on the bed. 

Fingertips traced back up the muscles of his thighs, nails gently scraping as Hinata pulled back, looking at him with eyes widened in a mixture of fear and excitement. With a shaking hand, the other man wrapped a palm around his hardness, giving a tentative stroke along the length of him. The grasp was hesitant, not nearly enough to satisfy, but the fact that it was Hinata touching him, exploring him, was enough to make a low groan tumble from his lips. 

“M-more. Like this.” He wrapped his own hand around the smaller man’s, adjusting the grip to provide more pressure and dragging both of their hands in a rhythm that left him panting. After a few moments he let his fingers fall away as Hinata kept up the motion, a look of concentration and arousal overtaking his features. Slowly growing more comfortable, the other man experimented, much like Oikawa had, changing his grip and angle and pace, drawing gasping moans from him, his hips flexing in response to the stimulation. It felt so  _ good  _ and  _ addictive, _ he just wanted  _ more,  _ so much more.

In a time much shorter than he wanted he reached out to pause the younger man’s movements, grasping the wrist that was pumping him and driving him  _ crazy.  _ “Stop. S’too much. Don’t wanna come yet.” Hinata pouted,  _ pouted,  _ with his lower lip pushed out slightly and all he wanted to do was bite it, to suck the flesh between his teeth and  _ ravish _ the smaller man.

“But I wanna make you feel good too!” Hinata’s words, almost a whine, made him smile. 

“Trust me, I do feel good, Chibi-chan.” He chewed on his lip, uncertain, “But I really wanna get inside of you, and I can’t do that if you make me come too soon.” He watched as the orange haired man’s cheeks flushed crimson, wondering if this was the moment that Hinata would draw the line. “Do you want to stop?”

“Will you stop  _ asking _ me that!” Hinata’s tone was frustrated, catching him by surprise. “I might be.... New to this. But I’m not a child.” His voice softened, tinged with embarrassment, “Just...d-do what you want and if I don’t like it, I promise I will tell you.” 

Excitement bubbled in his chest as he prayed he wasn’t making a huge mistake, “Alright then, little monster. We’ll do it your way… or my way, I guess.” He shoved trim shoulders, pushing Hinata backward to sprawl across the mattress, a surprised gasp from falling from parted lips. “Stay there.” He stood, kicking away his shorts as they fell to the floor, glad he had gone commando when the fabric didn’t tangle around his ankles. 

He strode over to his suitcase, naked and unashamed, the feel of a heated gaze on him making him preen. He knew he looked good, his muscles and body more toned than ever, and, not that he was conceited...well, maybe only a  _ little  _ conceited, but he knew he was attractive to most. But here, in this moment, Hinata’s eyes on him sent his ego soaring even higher. 

He quickly dug through several pockets of the bag, searching, before his fingers clutched around the items he was looking for. He straightened and made his way back to the bed and noted, with no small amount of pleasure, that Hinata had listened and remained exactly as instructed. He laid the lube and the condoms to the side, easily within reach, and climbed back on to the mattress, arranged himself between Hinata’s slightly parted thighs.

It was only as his gaze met the slightly confused look on the other man’s face that he felt his own flush of embarrassment. “Ah… it’s always better to come prepared. N-not that I was planning on anything happening. I wasn’t trying to assume. I-” 

His words cut off as Hinata laughed at him, “S’okay, Tooru-kun.” The smaller man licked his lips nervously, “Just, uh...condoms? I didn’t know that we needed them.” 

He hummed in understanding, heat lingering in his cheeks as he explained, “Ah, yeah. It helps with, ah, entry. And it can get kind of...messy?” His last words came out in a rush, “And until we both get tested and confirm we’re clean, it’s best to be safe.” 

Hinata’s eyes widened as his lips parted in a small ‘oh’, “M-makes sense. I trust you, Tooru-kun.” 

He relaxed and cleared his throat, grabbing the bottle of lube and popping the cap with a soft snick, “This part might be a little weird your first time. Let me know if it’s uncomfortable.” 

He dropped a hefty dollop of the fluid on his fingers before setting the bottle to the side, spreading the slick substance until each digit was coated. His heart pounded as he pressed his fingers against Hinata’s entrance and the other man released a surprised gasp. He gently spread the lube, his fingers tracing and teasing along the rim, pleased when Hinata moaned lightly. With one last glance up to Hinata’s face, he pressed the first finger inside slowly, feeling the warm sheath part and squeeze around him. He paused at the second knuckle, letting the other man adjust before moving the digit slightly, pulsing in and out until the muscle gave way and he slipped the finger all the way inside. 

Hinata keened as he murmured gently, “Relax. It will feel good soon.”  _ He hoped. _ What kind of cosmic evil would it be if it turned out that Hinata hated all of this. He knocked those thoughts out of his head quickly, now was not the time to worry about what if’s. They would cross that bridge if they ever came to it. 

He moved his hand, thrusting in and out, urging the tight hole to relax and stretch. He lifted his other hand to Hinata’s cock, already hard again after coming once, and stroked it softly as a means of distraction. Hinata whimpered as he slowly pushed a second finger inside, wriggling and searching, looking for... _ there. _ He grinned when Hinata gave a loud cry, back arching in pleasure, as he pressed along the small bundle of nerves deep inside with his fingertips. 

From there he picked up a steady rhythm, gently stroking the hardness in his palm while he scissored his fingers apart and pressed against the prostate. After a few minutes, as Hinata’s moans turned broken and pleading, he pushed the third finger in and prayed that it would be enough as he started to feel his own control slipping under the weight of his desire. Hinata was beautiful, a writhing mass of feeling under his hands, and the drive to be inside of him, filling him up in every way, was riding him hard. He just needed  _ more.  _ More shattered cries of pleasure. More feeling and sensation. More connection. 

Unable to wait any longer, he pulled his fingers away, “Last chance, Sho.” He chuckled as Hinata glared at him, the other man panting and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “Got it. I’ll stop asking.” He grabbed one of the condoms, tearing it open with his teeth before rolling it on his cock, shuddering slightly with the sensation. He grabbed more lube, pressing more against Hinata’s entrance before coating himself and then wiping his hand in a tissue from the box on the nightstand.

He lifted Hinata’s hips, encouraging the other man to wrap lithe and muscled legs around him before guiding himself to the tight ring of muscle. He pushed forward slowly, murmuring words of encouragement and wrapping a hand around his lover’s erection. He paused each time Hinata tensed or squeaked in distress, waiting for muscles to relax before he moved any further. 

Once fully inside he waited, unmoving, as he took a deep breath and fought off the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him. Being inside Hinata was... _ sin  _ incarnate. Heaven and hell wrapped into one. Tight,  _ hot,  _ and so so  _ good.  _

He grit his teeth, “Shouyou. I..I need to… I can’t wait anymore.” His own voice sounded strained, but he refused to do anything that could possibly hurt his lover. But he was pretty sure if he didn’t start moving soon he would die. 

“S’good, Tooru. I’m okay. Please,  _ more.”  _ Hinata’s legs flexed around his hips, encouraging him to move. Unable to hold back any longer, he withdrew slowly before flexing his hips and driving back inside, the tight heat sucking him in as he moaned with pleasure. Hinata’s eyes widened, “Oh god, Tooru.” The last little bit of hesitancy slipped off his back like water, relief coursing through him as Hinata’s enjoyment became clear. 

He pulled out again before snapping his hips, thrusting slightly harder as he was rewarded with a loud groan, Hinata’s hands clawing at the sheets. He leaned forward, bracing his arms on either side of his lover’s head, changing the angle and pressing deeper. He gave a few experimental thrusts, his smile wicked when Hinata gave a broken cry and he knew he had found the perfect angle to hit the sensitive bundle of nerves deep inside. 

From there he set a steady pace, hitting that spot over and over, as he whispered a continuous stream of words into Hinata’s ear. “You feel so good, Shouyou. You’re wrapped around my cock so tight. That’s it, let me hear you. I love how you moan for me. Such a good boy, you’re taking me so well. Fuck, it’s so  _ good.”  _

Hinata’s cries turned garbled and slurred, “T-Tooru.  _ Please _ . M-more.” Oikawa lifted up, wrapping one arm around Hinata’s back, leaving just his shoulders pressed into the soft mattress. He felt almost feral as he wrapped his other hand tightly around Hinata’s weeping cock, pumping in sure and firm strokes, a perverse delight coursing through him as he noticed tears dripping slowly from the corners of blissed out hazel eyes. “Oh god. S’too m-much. I’m gonna...gonna…”

“Come, Shouyou. Come for me.  _ Now.”  _ His jaw clenched as Hinata gave a startled shout, sticky fluid spurting from the tip of his cock to paint across a flushed chest. Oikawa’s dick felt as if it was being strangled as his lover’s muscles clenched with pleasure, desperate hands reaching out and clawing along his arms in search of an anchor. “That’s it, such a good boy, Shouyou. Fuck you’re so beautiful when you come. Just a little more, I promise.” 

Oikawa shifted again, folding Hinata’s legs back with knees tucked over his arms. His lover gave another desperate cry and he worried if this was too much... until Hinata’s slurred words of encouragement pushed him forward. He set a punishing pace, unable to hold back any longer as he chased his own pleasure, thrusts long and deep and  _ so fucking good _ .

Quickly, he felt the tingle start in the base of his spine, his eyes roaming hungrily over Hinata’s face, hazel eyes unfocused, jaw slack and body limp in his hold, voice hoarse from crying out in abandon. One..two… three more thrusts had him giving a loud shout as he pressed himself as deeply as he could into the tight heat of his lover, cock pulsing as he came. To his surprise, Hinata gave another whimper and a rush of sticky cum dribbled out, combining with the evidence of his earlier release already splattered across his stomach.  _ Holy shit.  _

He unhooked his arms from Hinata’s legs, the limbs dropping limply to the bed as he fell forward, barely catching himself on shaky arms as he panted, vision still hazy as he recovered. As he came back to himself, he gently pulled out of Hinata’s warmth despite the small sound of protest, gently tracing his thumbs along damp cheeks and wiping away the remnants of tears from the smaller man’s face. 

He stood from the bed, pausing at his lover’s distressed squeak, “I’ll be right back, promise.” Satisfied when Hinata calmed, he strode quickly to the bathroom, disposing of the condom and washing up before dampening a cloth with warm water and returning to the bed, gently cleaning the younger man off. He threw the hand towel to the side and crawled back on to the mattress, languidly curling himself around Hinata’s still limp form and pulling the comforter over top of them. “You okay?”

“Great.” Hinata hummed, lazy and tired. “I wanna do that like… eighty more times. But I’m so sleepy. Is it normal to be this sleepy?” 

Oikawa huffed a soft laugh, “Probably. Go to sleep, little monster. We can get started on that eighty tomorrow.” His smile stretched across his face, pleased and smug as Hinata murmured something that sounded like  _ ‘or eight hundred’  _ before giving way to gentle puffs of breath, the younger man already passed out. 

Oikawa laid there for a long while, unable to join his orange haired lover in the bliss of sleep as his mind ran over the night, their pleasure, and the never ending number of possibilities of what could happen after this. There was so much  _ potential _ here and the worry that something irreparable would happen to it haunted his mind, refusing to let him rest. More than anything, his thoughts kept catching on the one person who felt like he was missing from all of this. With that came guilt and a pang of loss that rang through him like a bell. 

Slowly, he sat up, pushing back to lean against the headboard as he made sure to not disturb his companion sleeping at his side. As he settled, Hinata adjusted, wrapping toned arms across his hips covered only in a sheet and tucking a relaxed and sleeping face into his side. The position made him smile, filling his chest with warmth at the fact that the younger man sought him out even in slumber. Even while all of this was so very new. It gave him a burst of hope that maybe this would all work out in the end. 

But first things first…

He picked up his cell, somehow magically within reach, and pulled up a photo of Hinata that he had discretely taken one of the nights they had been together, enjoying each other's company and the salty air. It was dark, but the light of neon signs was enough to illuminate the bright smile and gleaming eyes as Hinata had laughed at something he had said. Pulling up Iwaizumi’s number, he sent the photo and a brief message.

**Oikawa:** _ Look who I found. _

It was late, he knew there was a slim chance that he would get a response at this time, if he received anything at all. So it surprised him when almost immediately his phone started buzzing in a flurry of messages in his hand, making him grateful he had turned off the ringer early in the night. He didn’t necessarily want Hinata to be awake for this.

**Iwa-chan:** _ You fucking asshole. _

**Iwa-chan:** _Took you long enough_

**Iwa-chan:** _ You are in so much trouble the next time I see you _

**Iwa-chan:** _ How is he? _

**Iwa-chan:** _ How are you?  _

**Iwa-chan:** _ *Where* are you? _

He gave a choked laugh as moisture stung his eyes, relief palpable as he felt a missing piece click back into place somewhere deep inside of him. His fingers shook as he thought through how to respond, words tumbling over themselves in his mind. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to apologize for. But text messages late at night were not the way to do it.

**Oikawa:** _ Brazil. Long story. He’s okay, better now, I think. I’m also okay, definitely better now. _

**Oikawa:** _ Is it okay if I call you tomorrow? I want to talk...that’s if you’re still willing to talk to me. _

**Iwa-chan:** _ You better fucking call me tomorrow, baka. And you better be ready to give me some explanations. _

**Iwa-chan:** _ And if you *ever* pull this shit again, I will hunt you down and gut you. _

**Oikawa:** _ So violent and crass Iwa-chan. Adulthood has changed you. _

**Iwa-chan:** _ Shut it, idiot. Call me in the morning, I’m free until 10. Go to sleep. _

**Oikawa:** _ You too. We have a lot to talk about. _

He smiled, dropping his hands into his lap and he settled his head back against the wall with a ‘thunk’. His chest felt lighter, true happiness peeking out for the first time in ages. It would probably take forever to get Iwaizumi to forgive him, but he was willing to put in the work to do it. He glanced down at the head of orange hair burrowed into his side. 

He was willing to put in the work to do a few things.

Just as he started to doze, trying to convince himself to shuffle back down and wrap himself around Hinata again, his phone buzzed. 

**Iwa-chan:** _ I missed you. Asshole. _

His smile was so wide that it hurt as he murmured softly to the sleeping body beside him, “You were right, Shouyou. Find something we both like. And bring it up.” He pressed a warm kiss to soft hair, “Thank you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeek! We making moves, guys! 
> 
> Although my muse is apparently not ready to give up the angst, so like... you've been warned I guess! 
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter comes a little easier (and faster)


	11. Oasis in a Desert

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa always finds a way to irritate Iwaizumi, but they have to reconcile sometime. Fate is weaving her intricate web.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not dead! I'm so sorry for taking so long to post this, arguably shorter than originally planned, chapter. Life kinda ran me through the ringer the last few weeks.
> 
> I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> As always, not beta'd. All mistakes are mine - if you see anything glaring, let me know and I'll fix it.

His hands were shaking.

Frustrated, Iwaizumi clenched and unclenched his fists before shaking them out at his side, staring at the clock over the stove and doing the math in his head. Again. 5 hours. It was six in the morning now, which meant eleven am where Oikawa was. Four hours until he needed to be at the university. Four hours until he knew whether or not he would be purchasing a plane ticket to hunt down and potentially maim his childhood friend. 

Maybe less than four hours depending on what the selfish idiot had to say. It was a toss up really.

Sometime in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep and words were churning through his mind in an angry whirlwind, Iwaizumi had realized he had no idea  _ where _ exactly in Brazil Oikawa was. It was a big country and the moronic brunette hadn’t exactly specified how he had stumbled across a certain orange haired volleyball player. In South America of all places. 

Why did Oikawa always make his head hurt? 

So at some time just before two, when his eyes were aching and the list of questions just kept growing, he had finally given in and just  _ asked.  _ Oikawa had been slow to respond, but Iwaizumi forgave it with the early hour and the knowledge that the setter had never been the most early to rise, favoring late nights over early mornings where he could. 

Rio. Somehow, his biggest frustration and his biggest regret had reconnected in  _ Rio.  _ 5 hours time difference from where he was currently interning in California. 5 hours ahead of him in what felt like one of the most important days of his life. A Tuesday. Not that there was anything wrong with Tuesdays. This one just happened to be full of anxiety and repressed frustration.

He snorted to himself, the sound echoing in the quiet of his studio apartment provided to him by the university. He never would have been able to afford somewhere to live on his own otherwise, no matter how well the internship paid. It was one of the weird quirks he would never understand about this city, why the cost of living was so damned high. Thankfully, he only had to suffer through it for another year before he could head back to Japan and start achieving his dreams, dreams that had seemed a bit battered and bruised after high school.  __

He had never imagined that the moment Oikawa got on that train that it would be the last time they spoke, directly or otherwise, for  _ three years. _ He had tried. He had tried more than he ever should have been expected to. Until he gave up, defeated and left behind and angry at the single person who he had once thought was a forever kind of guy.  _ His _ forever guy. 

Iwaizumi was the steady friend. The dependable friend. He was the friend that would move heaven and earth for those he loved. Doubly so for Oikawa, because it was  _ Oikawa.  _ The boy who had stolen his heart and had never really given it back to him before running off to another continent and cutting ties with the world like some kind of martyr.

That was the frustrating end of it, if he had to be entirely honest. His best friend, his ex-lover, had probably done this out of some misplaced need to cut the people he cared about free. To release them from the burden of staying in his life, to avoid the potential future of awkward separation and faded relationships that always came with things like distance. It was stupid and Oikawa should have known better. Should have known that Iwaizumi wouldn’t have ever let anything like that happen to  _ them _ .

That Iwaizumi would still love him no matter what the future threw at them in their individual life journeys. That he would still love the other man even if they could be nothing more than friends.

But instead, here he was in his tiny kitchenette, staring at the clock on the stove. Hands shaking with fatigue and compounded anger, doing math in his head and waiting for the phone call that could break him even further.

Or mend the hurt and start them all on a new path. 

But hope was a thing that Iwaizumi could only look at with skepticism, so he kept his expectations low and ran through what he wanted to say and the various ways he wanted to yell obscenities at the man who had finally pulled his head out of his ass enough to reach out. 

And he wanted to know about Hinata, Kami-sama, he wanted to know everything. Where Oikawa was a never ending source of frustration for him, the guilt over how he had handled Hinata stuck with him like an arrow that would pierce muscle whenever he let his guard down enough to think about it. If hope was the thing with feathers, regret was a chain lined with thorns, oppressive and choking. The chance to make up for his adolescent failures seemed almost too good to be true. 

It probably was, but while he kept his expectations low, he was still a stubborn and opportunistic person at heart. So at the slightest opening to right some of his wrongs, he would grab it with both hands and never let it go. A smaller, sneakier, voice in the back of his mind insisted that he would probably end up pushing for even more than that, Oikawa be damned. 

He remembered their conversations in high school, the agreements they had made when the future had still seemed shiny and full of potential. Agreements that the small spiker probably still had no idea about. At the time, he hadn’t wanted to infringe or push out Oikawa. He hadn’t wanted to overstep or drive hurt feelings. If he could go back in time and smack himself, he would in a heartbeat. But that was only with the luxury of hindsight and for all he knew the last three years had been the best of Hinata’s life. 

Glancing at the clock again, noting that only fifteen minutes had passed, he gave another murmur of thanks to whatever deity was listening that he didn’t have a roommate to witness how incredibly weird he was acting. Shaking out his hands again, he started pulling out pans to make breakfast, despite the early hour, to give him something to do other than get tangled in his thoughts and feelings waiting for Oikawa to call.

The Sparkling Idiot better remember the time difference that Iwaizumi had pointed out to him and call on time, or he was liable to plot homicide. Not really. Maybe. Probably.

~*~

_ Of course _ the call would come while he was in the shower. Oikawa was nothing if not a thorn in his side, so it was fitting that his phone started ringing angrily on the countertop just as his hands were full of suds. Grumbling to himself, he quickly rinsed the soap from his palms and tugged the shower curtain open, wincing slightly when some of the plastic gave whining pops of protest. Not bothering to grab a towel, he leaned out and grabbed the vibrating device that was dancing dangerously along the edge of the sink. 

“You couldn’t stop being annoying for 5 minutes and let me finish showering, could you.” The words were tense, sliding from his tongue in a mock of anger to hide the pounding of his heart, certain that Oikawa would be able to hear it through the call. “Give me a second. Don’t hang up.” 

_ ‘Uh, yeah. Fine, fine.’  _ Oikawa’s voice sounded startled and he took a small measure of satisfaction at the sound while he set the device down and brusquely towelled off, wrapping the soft material around his hips. Thankfully, California was almost always warm. And dry. So there wasn’t much to worry about in the way of getting sick. 

He picked up the cell again, propping it against his ear before slowly meandering back into the living area and dropping to sit on the edge of his bed. He took a deep breath, “Okay, I’m here.” 

_ ‘That was so mean, Iwa-chan. How was I supposed to know you would be showering?’  _ Oikawa’s tone was plaintive and whining and so severely missed he had to swallow several times before speaking.

“I don’t know how you manage it, baka. But if there is a way to irritate me, you always find it.” He waited, uncertain of how to continue. Silence filled the line, tense and thick between them, the taste of it like bitter and spoiled fruit on his tongue.

He opened his mouth, ready to search for words and push them forward when Oikawa’s voice came across, small and almost timid.  _ ‘I’m sorry, Hajime.’  _ His eyes closed, squeezing tightly as he desperately clung to the anger and frustration he had carried with him like a cloak for the last three years. But somewhere underneath all of the hurt, he was so desperately happy just to bask in Oikawa’s voice that it was becoming impossible for him to hold on to it. 

He sighed, deciding that he was still allowed to spew words of pain and exhausted sadness later should the need arise, “I’ve been waiting a long time to hear those words, Tooru. I-” his throat tightened, choking on air, “I don’t know how long it will take me to forgive you. I missed you.”  _ I love you. _ He gritted his teeth against feelings he wasn’t ready to give quite so easily. “Can you just… explain?”

Oikawa’s sigh was long, somehow managing to convey a sense of self-deprecation that Iwaizumi imagined the other man would carry with him for quite awhile.  _ ‘At the time, it felt right. To just  _ **_go_ ** _ into it free and clear of anything and everything from back home. I thought I was ready to do it, to take up the mantle by myself and find my own way.’  _ This time, Oikawa’s inhale was shaky and he wondered for a moment if he was crying.  _ ‘I thought I was handling it the best I could. And then by the time I figured out I was being dumb, it felt like so  _ **_much_ ** _ had passed that there wasn’t any way to come back.’ _

_ ‘I didn’t… I never meant to hurt you. I honestly thought this would be best for you too, a way to let me go and move on without having to actually tell me to leave.’  _ A croak of laughter came through the line, caustic and harsh.  _ ‘Really, I just didn’t want to watch you fall in love while I couldn’t do anything about it.’ _

_ ‘I missed you, still miss you, Hajime. And I didn’t really know how much until Sho’ told me I was being stupid.’  _ It was somehow enough and yet not anywhere close to satisfactory all at the same time. A place deep inside of him, a small jumble of emotion that he had been forced to wall off in order to protect himself from the hurt, pinged with yearning.

“You’re an idiot, Tooru.” He took another deep breath, settling himself as he lifted his fingers to pinch at the bridge of his nose. “I really wish you would stop seeing being cared for as some kind of weakness to be wielded against you.” He cleared his throat, “So what changed?” 

Oikawa’s laugh was boisterous and flustered, cracked slightly around the edges with a tinge of sadness, ‘ _ Shouyou-kun, of course.’ _ A little snort filtered through the line drawing a tiny curve of a grin to his lips. ‘ _ I have no idea how it happened, really. One minute I was walking along the beach with my teammates, looking for somewhere to eat and then he was just there. Playing beach volleyball and bouncing around the way he used to and yet completely different. I said something, I don’t even remember what, and he turned and saw me and....’  _ The connection went quiet for a long pause. ‘ _ It felt a little bit like fate, as crazy as that sounds.’  _ The words were whispered and soft, almost like Oikawa was afraid that this temporary joy would be stripped away from him.  __

Oikawa recovered quickly, speech coming quick and bright as he moved on, ‘ _ And then I told him about what happened, the core of it at least. And he called me cruel and stupid and lonely.’  _ Another pause. ‘ _ And then he said he envied what we had. And that if he were in my place he would have grabbed on and never let go.’  _

“So this is… what exactly, to you?” His heart was pounding again, both yearning for and dreading the response. He laid back, pressing the skin of his shoulders into the comforter as he prayed silently to walk away from this conversation no more bruised than he had been going into it. 

_ ‘Being here with Shouyou-kun… it makes me think about things differently. It makes me wonder about possibilities that I stopped considering before I ever even left Japan.’  _ Another gentle clearing of a throat came through the call,  _ ‘It makes me think about you… and about him. He still doesn’t know. I...I haven’t explained it to him yet.’ _

He hummed in his throat, “So, what am I supposed to tell my girlfriend? That my long lost lover and best friend has come back and he wants the position now?” He grit his teeth, hoping he wasn’t making a mistake here.

_ ‘What?! I.. uh… well…’  _ Oikawa’s voice was tense and strained, ‘ _ I guess I had never considered….No. Nothing like that. I would still be happy with whatever you were willing to give me, even if it’s just friendship.’  _

The dejected tone cut him more than he ever thought possible, but he at least had the answer he had hoped for, “Well then it’s a good thing I don’t have a girlfriend to worry about disappointing.” 

The splutter of curses came through, loud and angry, ‘ _ You are an asshole, Iwa-chan. You nearly gave me a heart attack!’  _ Finally, for the first time in what felt like ages, he laughed, loud and boisterous and free.

He sobered slightly as he responded, “It’s unfair to assume that the world just waited for you while you were busy ignoring it, Tooru. And we might want to talk to Shouyou-kun before we get too ahead of ourselves.” He licked his lips, “But I am glad that you finally...came back.” He quickly changed the topic, unwilling and not quite ready to delve into the twisting possibilities further, “Now tell me about Shouyou-kun.”

The pause that met his words was tense somehow, causing his stomach to drop, ‘ _ Ah...he’s good now, it seems.’  _ His jaw clenched, sensing that the phrasing was deliberate and feeling a rush of foreboding flow through him. 

“What do you mean by ‘good now’?” He sat up again, the feeling of a string pulling taught in his chest making it impossible to relax. When the other man didn’t respond, the quiet lingering far longer than it should, he prompted, “Tooru? What do you mean?”

A heavy sigh met his ears, followed by, ‘ _ I won’t tell the details, it’s not my place. But…’  _ Another pause that set his teeth on edge, ‘ _ Ugh! Fuck, I don’t know. It wasn’t….they weren’t… nothing turned out the way I thought it would.’ _ Oikawa sounded flustered and annoyed.

“What does that even  _ mean _ ?” His own agitation rising to the surface, “Just tell me the basics. None of your dancing around.” 

_ ‘He’s good, mostly. I mean, it’s not like some travesty happened to him.’  _ Oikawa let out another frustrated sound, ‘ _ It’s just that the person I thought would be there for him when I wasn’t didn’t do a very good job. So now I just feel guilty. And stupid. About all of it, really. About you. About him. About everything else. Quite honestly I have no idea why you would event want-’ _

“Shut up, you idiot. You’re spiraling.” He huffed a small laugh, at least some things hadn’t changed. “Let me translate your babbling. By person, you mean…?”

_ ‘Kageyama.’  _ Oikawa’s voice was terse and annoyed, as if he hated even speaking the name aloud.

“And by there for him, you mean _ …?”  _ He prompted the other man again.

Oikawa sighed again, as if baffled that he had to spell this out, ‘ _ Best friends? Partners? Lovers, even. You get the gist.’ _

He opened his mouth again to ask the last little bit before Oikawa cut him off, clipped and perturbed,  _ ‘And by ‘didn’t do a very good job’ I mean he was downright cruel. And confusing. And I, quite frankly, don’t like him very much.’ _

“You never liked him, you drama queen.” He swiped a hand across his face, flustered and confused. “I’m assuming that the rest of it I will have to wait until Shouyou-kun tells me. If he ever wants to speak to me again, that is.” 

_ ‘Yeah. I...I don’t ever want him to feel like he’s at the mercy of someone else’s whim.’  _ Oikawa back pedaled, giving a distressed sound before talking quickly, ‘ _ I mean, not that this is a whim. Or that you’ll take this as gossip. Or whatever. I just… want him to decide how much to share. It’s not my place.’ _

“I get it. It’s alright.” He chewed on his lip, trying to force his shoulders to relax as his mind turned over what could have possibly happened. “I guess… tell me about Argentina?” 

For the next hour, they shared stories from their time apart, conversation flowing easily between them like the breeze of a midsummer day. His heart ached at Oikawa’s loneliness and struggle to fit in when faced with a different world. He laughed at the antics of the setter’s teammates and how easily they had learned to put him in his place. It was everything he hadn’t dared hope for and yet still not nearly enough. As they finally parted, the time for him to get to campus upon them, they hung up amid promises to call and a newfound hope blooming between them. He was still bruised, only time would heal the wounds of the past, but some of the aches were at least a little less sharp now.

~*~

The rest of the summer seemed to blaze by in a furious blur, the chaos of it all rather overwhelming. His internship continued, a dream he had achieved to study under one of the world’s most renowned sports trainers, who, in an amusing twist of fate, was Ushijima Wakatoshi’s father. He never truly knew if his history with Takashi Utsui’s son won him any favor, but he worked hard for the honor with everything he had regardless. 

The position was so coveted, in fact, that he was entirely surprised when the invite had come to him to join the man in Rio for the summer olympics. The likelihood of this happening had been so far out of the realm of what he thought was achievable that he was sure he had frightened the older man with his prolonged silence as he had processed his shock. 

Eventually he had given a terse acceptance and an exuberant thank you before quickly walking to a quiet corner of the athletic center to call Oikawa and, predictably, went to voicemail. That didn’t stop him from leaving a message full of rushed excited words and joyful shouts. They could talk later, when the other man was free from practice and his own mind stopped spinning with the rush of excitement.

They would be attending the U.S. Olympic team at the games, so the remainder of their time would be spent reviewing player profiles, injury reports, and itineraries. Enough information to fill his mind to bursting in what felt like too short a time. His dream was coming true, in ways he had never even thought to imagine before. Most days he felt breathless and overwhelmed. Others he just felt exhilarated. 

But, most keenly, possibilities were unfurling in his mind, slowly taking shape in ways he hadn’t dared hope for before. Just a handful of days after he had found that he would be attending the Olympics, Oikawa had called him, voice high pitched and overwhelming with excitement. While he would not be playing for Argentina in these games, the coach had invited him to attend as a spectator to the event and to participate in team activities to get a feel for it. 

The joy from Oikawa was two-fold. First and foremost, he would be returning to Brazil, to Rio, where Hinata was training and where Iwaizumi himself would be for the games. The second being that the Argentinian coach already had his eye on Oikawa for the national team and his former setter’s dreams were a hair’s breadth from becoming reality. 

Similar to how Oikawa had described it to him originally, it all felt a little bit like fate. He hadn’t yet reached out to the former Karasuno middle blocker, both too nervous and too ashamed to try and reconnect given the brief duration of their high school relationship and the unfortunate way it ended. This felt like the opportunity he had been waiting for. The opportunity to seek out his greatest regret and make amends and with luck, or maybe divine intervention, pursue something more.

With only a handful of days left until his departure to Brazil, Iwaizumi was surprised by a late evening call from Oikawa. The time difference between them would easily put the Argentina setter into the early hours of the morning, not unusual for his best friend but still strange. 

Concerned, he placed his notepad, diligently populated with summaries and observations of the U.S. Volleyball team, on the table in front of him before connecting the call, “Tooru-kun? It’s late, are you alright?” 

There was a pause, and then, ‘ _ Iwa-chan, I have something important to tell you.’  _ His heart stuttered at the serious tone from the normally flamboyant man, horrible possibilities taking shape one after the other and flashing through is thoughts.

He swallowed, the lump suddenly in his throat making it difficult to speak, “I’m listening. Are you okay?”

‘ _ Yes, I’m fine. It’s about-,’  _ Oikawa paused again, uncertainty clear in the space between them, ‘ _ It’s about Shouyou-kun.’  _ Iwaizumi bit his lip, abusing the flesh between his teeth as he waited for his best friend to continue. Oikawa huffed an exasperated sigh, ‘ _ I don’t know why this is so hard to say. But the last time I was in Brazil, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I feel like you should know before we both pop up in Rio and things get complicated.’ _

Iwaizumi’s teeth ground together, “Spit it out, Tooru.” 

‘ _ Shouyou-kun and I… slept together.’ _ Oikawa stopped speaking, waiting, the line heavy with anticipation. 

Iwaizumi laughed, “That’s it?” The tension in his chest eased, worry slipping away like rain water after a storm.

Oikawa spluttered, ‘ _ What do you  _ **_mean,_ ** _ ‘That’s it’?!’  _ Iwaizumi could hear the brunette’s bursts of irritated muttering through the phone.

“I mean that it doesn’t surprise me. Or bother me.” He snorted another laugh, “I would have been more surprised if you hadn’t. Were you good to him?”

Oikawa’s tone was indignant, ‘ _ What do you mean was I….of _ **_course_ ** _ I was good to him!’  _ The other man’s deep breath to calm himself was audible through the connection and Iwaizumi swallowed his amusement. ‘ _ So you’re telling me, I’ve been sitting here wondering if you were going to hate me for making a move on Shouyou-kun without you and you don’t even care. I’ve been agonizing over this for  _ **_weeks_ ** _ Iwa-chan.  _ **_WEEKS!_ ** **’**

This time, his mirth couldn’t be contained and he only chuckled harder at Oikawa’s haughty huffs of annoyance, “If it makes you feel better, I’m jealous. Not in a bad way, just a ‘I wish I was there’ kinda way.” 

‘ _ Well, it’s the least you could do.’  _ After another puff of hair into the receiver, sending crackling noise through the call, he continued, ‘ _ I..I haven’t told him about anything else yet though.’ _

A skitter of unease raced up his spine, the one thing that had the power to pull the rug from underneath them and destroy the possibilities that kept manifesting in his mind, like finding out an oasis in a desert was merely a mirage. “It’s okay, Tooru. It might be better if we all talk about it when we’re together.”  _ When we’re together. _ The statement sent a jolt of warmth through him, chasing away the chilly sensation of nerves.

‘ _ Yeah, you’re’ probably right. Although I can say when you get your hands on him, the  _ **_last_ ** _ thing you will think is ‘That’s it.’  _ The smile in Oikawa’s voice was catching, drawing a grin to his own lips in response. ‘ _ Until we’re together then.’ _

“Yeah. Until we’re together.” 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Any comments or suggestions are always welcome! Hope to get the next chapter up in a week!


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